[The Little Fairy's Sexual Experiences]

My husband is the person I love most in this world. (Of course, this doesn't include my parents, but that's a different story
.) It's really unfair to some people, especially my brother and my three-month-old baby, to say this.
But it's the truth. The person I love most is the man who torments and plays with me every night. I seem to think about him
all the time . When I was choosing a screen name, I remembered that he used to call me "Little Fairy" in bed. Since
that nickname was already taken, I thought of the computer game he used to like, *Princess Maker 3: Fairy Tale*,
and that's my current screen name.

I met my husband five years ago. He's a friend of my brother's.

When I decided to marry him three years ago, my parents were very happy about the marriage. In their eyes,
my husband was handsome, had a good job, a good family, and good character—a truly excellent man. But
none of my friends who knew him didn't advise me against marrying him. In their eyes, he was hopeless,
an absolute rogue and playboy. After all, he had been with countless women before he met me, and
had slept with who knows how many girls.

But I don't seem to have a "virginity complex," so I didn't care too much. Finally, amidst the blessings of friends
and the curses of my rivals, I walked down the aisle.

I'm the kind of girl who was incredibly pure in body before marriage, but incredibly corrupt in spirit.

Physical purity means that before marriage I only had one boyfriend, my current husband. My first love,
first kiss, and even my virginity were all with him. Before marriage, even with my husband, we only held hands and
kissed ; we never even caressed each other. He asked me to have sex twice before our wedding,
once even the day before the banquet, and I firmly refused both times.

Corruption in spirit means that I started watching pornography at 16, and by the time of my wedding, I had watched at least two hundred
films. I've seen it all: threesomes, anal sex, group sex, SM, candle wax dripping, enemas, snake bondage, facial ejaculation, female dog sex, training,
exhibitionism , bestiality… and so on. I've read countless pornographic novels and
seen countless pornographic pictures.

I remember a long time ago, I was watching TV with my parents at home, and they were showing "
Anti-Prostitution . There was a scene where a man was whipping a woman. I casually said "SM" to the screen
. When Bobby Au-yeung uttered those two letters on the screen, my parents
looked at me with strange eyes…

My classmates always chatted about trivial topics about men and women (like
whether When I, the class monitor, chimed in, they would dismissively say
things like, "You wouldn't understand," or "It's not suitable for young girls." I thought to myself, "Is it me who doesn't understand, or
you all? You'll probably never know the things I know."

My husband is probably the person who understands me best. But in his eyes, I'm basically a clueless girl.
At that moment, I thought to myself, "After we get married, you'll know what the world's number one slut looks like."

My husband is the kind of man who really knows how to have fun. On our wedding night, red candles, roses, soft music,
incense , and petals in the bathtub—everything was essential. (Although the roses were wholesale from the florist, the music was rubbish
, the incense smelled bad, and the petals were the wrong brand…)

I had been thoroughly tormented during the previous "teasing my wife
"
rituals, and after a long day, I was really tired, but I still tried my best to stay awake. After the guests left, I nervously checked the room, afraid someone was eavesdropping.

Then, I lay flat on the blankets my sister-in-law had laid out for me and began to undress.
I slowly undressed myself, finally pulling my underwear down from my knees. Then, I spread
my legs wide, parting my labia to face him, and teased him with phrases from pornographic forums:
"Hey, a top-quality virgin's hole, enjoy it. You won't have another chance to see this. Need a magnifying glass?"
(The world's number one slut...)

...

Although I had never had sex before, I had watched countless pornographic films and read countless erotic
novels , so I knew what to do when he was penetrating me. When he penetrated, I leaned forward slightly to allow
him to penetrate deeper. When he withdrew, I leaned back slightly. These subtle
movements made him more comfortable while conserving his energy. When my hymen was broken, I couldn't help but groan
, my brow furrowing slightly. He hesitated, as if wanting to say something. I said to him, "Continue."

We were both very skilled. We experienced immense pleasure on our first time. His skills were
honed through countless practice sessions. I, on the other hand, was self-taught.

Self-taught...and then applying theory to practice, to serve the man I love most.

That man cherishes me, loves me, spoils me, trusts me, pities me, protects me, and is
always , sheltering me from the wind and rain, helping me solve all difficulties, giving me a happy and stable life and perfect
love. He is always there for me when I'm lonely. He shares my joy when I'm happy, and comforts me when I'm unhappy
. He always listens to me, always understands me, will never betray me, and always knows
what I need most.

And all I have to repay him with is letting go of my pretense of reserve in front of him, and trying my best to cooperate with him during sex, making it
more comfortable and enjoyable for him when he's with me. (Swearing...)

When I went back to my parents' house, my silly brother quietly asked me, "Was it good?"

In real life, I only tell the truth to my brother. I told him, "It was fucking good, even if
I died right now, it would be worth it."

Although my husband talks about democracy with me most of the time after marriage. We decide the position, method, and location of sex through games like rock-paper-scissors, dice rolling, or drawing
cards to determine the winner. He even
allows me to cheat and "go slow."

But sometimes he can be very unreasonable, refusing my democratic requests. Sometimes he'll
stare at me with an extremely greedy, lewd, evil, yet resolute gaze, and say very arrogantly, "You're my woman, I
can do whatever I want with you, even if it kills you." (Here comes more profanity… This is written language, not spoken language.)
In real life, my husband wouldn't speak Mandarin at this moment, nor would he say things like "You're my woman
." I'd tilt my head, stare at him thoughtfully with wide eyes, and then say, "That's
true."

I also often use childish words like "oh," "hehe," "I," and "no way" in my everyday speech
. Luckily, I look youthful, have a petite figure, and am prettier than Sister Furong.
People don't usually find it disgusting.

Although this little devil is already 23 years old this year, and her baby is three months old. (I wasn't of
legal marriage age when I married him; we had a wedding banquet and got our marriage certificate two months later.) But I still have a childish temper,
and my personality isn't much different from when I was a teenager. (I guess my IQ is too.)

I always do some very exaggerated things. For example, before sex, I'd strip naked,
lie on the bed in an exaggerated spread-eagle position, wink at him, and say in an exaggerated tone, "Come on, ravage me."

When he was stressed at work or in a bad mood, I'd perform a striptease in front of him, then ask him
naked , "Feeling better now? Hey, give me a smile, okay? I've already shown you
everything, what more do you want from me?"

Sometimes he'd play games on the computer, like those striptease mahjong games. When I got impatient, I'd
say, "What's so interesting about 2D women? If you want to see something, look at me, this 3D beauty. I
look way better naked than them."

Sometimes I'd watch porn with him and ask him things like, "Who's prettier, Ai Iijima or me?"
My husband would turn around, look me up and down, and sincerely say, "At least in terms of lewdness, she can't
compare to you."

He first asked me to perform oral sex about ten days after we got married. Although I could psychologically
accept it, and I was willing to do anything for my husband, I still found it physically unbearable.

When I actually put his penis in my mouth, I did feel a bit nauseous. I don't think any
woman is born liking to give oral sex to a man. I suppressed the urge to vomit, thinking about his usual
care and concern for me, and the joy and happiness he brought me; that feeling of nausea seemed to lessen considerably.
I had originally thought that after watching so many pornographic films, I would do
a great job . But when it actually happened, it was a completely different story. I only remembered to swallow and spit out his penis, repeating
that one action over and over again; I couldn't seem to remember anything else. My husband gently stroked my hair, telling me
what to do. I thought to myself, I actually understand everything, I'm just suddenly a little nervous. Under his
guidance sucked, licked, held, and kissed his penis. I secretly watched the expression on his face, seeing him become more and more
comfortable, and felt a sense of accomplishment. After all, his happiness is my greatest happiness; as long as he
is happy, I'm willing to endure any hardship. At the climax, he couldn't help but gently press
my head down with both hands and begin thrusting in and out of my mouth. I imagine his expression must have been quite wicked. The feeling of that foreign object
deep in my throat was incredibly uncomfortable, and I felt a strong urge to vomit. My body
is somewhat overly sensitive; other women might not feel as uncomfortable as I did at that moment. But I didn't push him away. This
was his most pleasurable moment, and I shouldn't spoil his enjoyment. Finally, his body thrust forward violently, and
thick semen filled my mouth. Although I could never understand why men liked to ejaculate in
a woman's mouth and even want her to swallow it, I knew at least my husband would like it too. He
wouldn't think I was lewd or cheap because I swallowed his semen the first time I performed oral sex on him. He would understand that it
was my deep love for him, and this man would always understand my feelings.

I forced myself to swallow the semen, suppressing the nausea. Even though it was the semen of the man I loved most, I still felt
indescribably disgusted. It seems being a porn star isn't so easy after all. Of course, I didn't show any discomfort on my face
. After he pulled his penis out of my mouth, I gave him a happy smile. He looked very touched,
gazing at me affectionately, gently stroking my hair, and couldn't resist kissing my cheek.

Actually, I really felt like vomiting at that moment.

No woman is born liking to eat semen, right? Although I brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth afterward, I still felt
a strange taste in my mouth, and my stomach still felt uncomfortable. That nauseous feeling lasted for a long time.
Those women in porn movies seem to enjoy eating semen; I really don't know how they
do it . It's unbelievable that they can do this for someone other than their husbands. I
will only do this for one man in my life.

Because I love this guy, I've distorted my aesthetic sense, believing he's the most handsome man in the world; distorted
my moral sense, believing that everything he does is absolutely right; distorted my outlook on life, believing
that being ravaged, played with, and humiliated by him every day is my greatest happiness; distorted my sense of taste, believing that his semen really tastes
delicious . Now I can easily swallow my husband's semen; the nausea and vomiting I used to feel are basically
gone. I even distorted my nutritional beliefs,
believing that swallowing semen could actually improve my appearance, even though I knew foreign proteins couldn't be absorbed.

This guy is spoiled rotten. He always takes advantage of me without restraint. And now, I've long forgotten how to
refuse or resist him. He always likes to ejaculate in my mouth and on my face. Maybe loving someone too much makes you
lose your dignity. I don't think there's anything wrong with what he does; on the contrary, I feel it's his reward to me.
I always swallow his semen with happiness, joy, and honor. He makes me clean it up, and I
obediently lick the remaining semen off his penis—it seems to have become a habit. This greedy
guy even said to me, "If you dare disobey, I won't let you eat anymore." I'm speechless.

Of course, I know how despicable I am, but being a little despicable in front of my husband isn't a big
deal. I also know how shameless it is to write this, but I still want to finish it, since I'm bored anyway.
So incredibly bored.

He's really, really good to me. I used to have a watery liquid spurt out of my urethra during sex,
and I never knew why. Recently, after reading a post on 39, I learned that it's "ejaculation" during orgasm.
I've had far too many orgasms in these past three years. While I may not fully understand what an orgasm is,
I know I've been incredibly happy and joyful these past three years. He always knew when to be gentle with me and when
to be rough. When to treat me like a princess and when to treat me like a toy. This man, the best and the worst in my
eyes …

I'm willing to give up my dignity in bed for something more important to me. To ensure I
'll never be lonely, never feel sad, never be alone. To have the one I love most by my side forever.
Many women in this world never find the one they truly love, and even if they do, they may not
be able to be with him. But I got everything I wanted most in my first love. On the
day I married him, all my dreams came true in that moment.

From then on, no one in this world could truly hurt me, no one could
make me sad or heartbroken. My world would no longer be cold and dark. He would bring me warmth and light. As long as
I can be with him, I have no other desires in this life.

I remember one time we made love passionately. He first fucked my mouth, then my vagina, and finally my
anus. He fucked all three holes in my body at will. (I don't need to write it so directly, although
it's all the truth...) After our frenzied lovemaking, we snuggled in bed and chatted. We talked about love, about life and
death. He suddenly asked me what I would choose to die if I could choose. I thought for a moment, then
stared at him with wide eyes and smiled, saying, "I choose to be fucked to death by you." He wanted to laugh, but seeing the serious expression on my face
, he didn't, and just sighed. I asked him what he would choose to die if it were him. He thought for a moment and
said very seriously, "I choose to fuck you to death and then die from exhaustion." I was really satisfied with his answer. (We
're currently working on it together.) I leaned against him, stroking his chest muscles, and whispered
, "I'll still be your wife in my next life, and you'll still fuck me. For all eternity, I'll only let you fuck me." (So many swear words in
one article...) Hearing my words, he stared at me blankly, his eyes
welling up with tears. He reached out and gently stroked my face, then tenderly stroked my hair. He didn't
speak for a long time, then sighed heavily. After a while, we began our next round of lovemaking. He spread
my legs with both hands and inserted his erect penis into my wet vagina. His eyes were fixed on me as he thrust into me
forcefully saying viciously, "I'll fuck you to death, you little slut." We exchanged glances,
looking at each other defiantly. ...

Later, he asked me again what I would do if he became impotent, whether I would leave him. I thought about it
seriously and answered him, "I can masturbate myself and then use my mouth to help you, and that will still make you feel good." He
asked me what I should do if he couldn't feel anything down there and masturbation wasn't enough. I told him
, "What are you afraid of? There are vibrators, beads, and dildos in the drawer. You can just play with me like you normally do
. Besides, you can use whips or candles to torture me, and that will surely give you pleasure.
If all else fails, you can use bananas or cucumbers, which will satisfy me and make you feel good too.
(I've watched too much porn...) Anyway, I will never leave you for any reason, never. And
don't getting rid of me." (I don't know if I can really do that, it's probably difficult, but at least I'm telling the truth.
I swear.) My husband seemed thoughtful and remained silent for a long time. I yelled at him, "Hey, why aren't you saying anything? Are you
touched or do you think I'm a pervert?" He snapped out of it and said, "Oh, I was just thinking, actually, a cactus
isn't bad either." "Go to hell."

Actually, even if we just snuggled together, holding hands, watching the sunrise and sunset, the morning and evening glow, we would be just as
happy.

I asked him if he would leave me if I suddenly became a barren woman. This shameless guy actually told me
that there were two other holes he could use.

(Honestly, I've never thought anal sex was a perverted act, but rather considered it perfectly normal. For a
girl who has watched porn since she was sixteen and has an overly rich knowledge base, many of her values have been distorted.
Besides, even Qu Meifeng in that secretly filmed DVD allowed her boyfriend to anally sex with her. As long as my husband is happy, he can do
whatever he wants to me.)

Speaking of which, he can be really lewd and wicked at times.

He's given me a lot of nicknames, and apart from "little vixen," the other nicknames are basically all very offensive and
insulting, some even containing profanity. However, I would still respond when he called me by those nicknames. I
'm used to his humiliation anyway. If doing such pointless things makes him feel good, I'll just go along with it
.

This guy really knows how to enjoy himself. He always comes up with all sorts of ways to play with me and torment me.
Sometimes he even asks me for ideas, to help him think of good ways to play with me. He likes me to suck his penis,
suck his toes, and lick his anus. (I haven't modified the words in this article...)
No woman is born slutty and willing to do such things. Besides, I was always very clean before we got married. (I'm actually
a clean freak...) But I can't care about that to make him feel good. I always do these things for him very diligently and wholeheartedly
. (Words like dignity and self-love are so far removed from me; lewdness, baseness, and all the vulgar words that insult
women are reserved for me.)

Sometimes he would tease me on purpose, lying in bed, looking at my naked body, pointing to my vagina and asking
, "What's this?" I knew the answer he wanted, so I looked at him obediently, smiled shyly, and
answered seriously, "This is my pussy." He looked at me with a wicked grin and asked, "What's this
for?" I looked slightly surprised, as if he were asking a pointless question, and answered, "My pussy
is for you to fuck, of course." "Do you like being fucked by me?" "Yes, of course I like it." I didn't blush;
I never blush when I tell the truth.

I still felt unsatisfied, so I leaned close to his ear and said, "Let me tell you, I'm the most despicable
bitch in the world." (But I swear, I'll only take you as my client for the rest of my life.) He shook his head and said dismissively,
"Don't say things like that again. You can be @$%*, %^#$, but you can never be a bitch. Because you can only let me play with you for the rest of your
life ."

Sometimes I think I'm quite promiscuous. But in this life, I will only be promiscuous in front of my husband,
using this promiscuity to please him, and letting this promiscuity seep into my blood.

I remember one time after he had sex with me... (Perhaps I can put it more euphemistically...) that time
he really played with me terribly. Looking at my haggard self in the mirror after he had ravaged me: an overly thin figure, overly
large breasts, a vagina swollen from his fucking, a lewd expression on my face with a hint of bewilderment, empty eyes,
completely exhausted, semen slowly spilling from the corner of my mouth...

My man once whispered in my ear that he would ravage me a thousand times, ten thousand times, until he ravaged me to death.

Sometimes he's also surprised by my "extensive knowledge." A seemingly well-behaved and cute
girl actually knows
words like "oral sex," "ice and fire nine heavens," "poison dragon," "SM," "female dog," and "enema," and even knows how to write the word "fuck." And some of the things I know are things he
has no idea about . Even the pictures I downloaded from the internet before our marriage surprised him. (
Deep down, I'm really proud of these things.)

Wow. I've typed so much, it took me over two hours. I really have a lot of free time. My
life is destined to be spent in happiness and utter boredom, doing nothing. Washing his clothes and cooking for him during the day,
being ravaged and played with by him at night. All the ambition I had when I first graduated has long since vanished.

The content I wrote later became complete fabrication, at best a "self-written erotic novel." I've discovered I
really have a talent for writing erotic novels. If I write more, I can be
compared to the author of "A Girl's Heart." I know I've always been thick-skinned, but I didn't expect that after going online, my skin would become so thin,
to the point of being nonexistent.

I'm just so bored. I can't help but write some words to vent my feelings, trying my best
to portray as utterly despicable. Saying things I would never say to anyone in real life. Being shameless online to the fullest.

(Some of the overly detailed descriptions in the article seem a bit artificial, but I don't mind. I wrote
this to let others "know," not to make them "believe.")

As I idly type on the computer, I'm also listening to music. Right now, it's my favorite song,
"I Only Care About You."

If I hadn't met you,
where would I be?
How would my days be?
Would I cherish life
...?
I wonder if I would
still have love as sweet as honey.
Let time rush by,
I only care about you...
I wouldn't regret losing the strength to live...
So, please, don't let me leave you...

I look at the house I'm in now, at the curtains on the window, at the little bed beside me, at
the color of the paint on the walls, at the cup beside me, at the little decorations on the computer, at my little baby, and a strange feeling of happiness wells up
inside me . Why is everything he prepares for me, no matter what it is
, so pleasing to the eye, so exactly what I want?

It seems I like everything he does. How can I love him so much? Sometimes I think of
that line from Alexandre Dumas fils' *La Dame aux Camélias*: "You can do whatever you want to me, I'm your slave, your dog."
I know this thought is despicable, but I can't help but think it.

The moment I married him was already the perfect ending to the story. Whether he was gentle and considerate
or abusive and humiliating after marriage doesn't matter anymore.

That man cherishes me, loves me, spoils me, trusts me, pities me, protects me, and is
always , sheltering me from the storm, helping me solve all my difficulties, giving me a happy and stable life and perfect
love. He's always there for me when I'm lonely. He shares my joy when I'm happy and comforts
me when I'm sad. He always listens to me, always understands me, will never betray me, and always knows
what I need most.

And all I have to give in return is to let go of my pretense of modesty in front of him, to cooperate with him as much as possible during sex, to make him feel
more comfortable and enjoy himself when he's with me. I'm willing to give up my dignity in bed for
something more important to me.

Of course, a good wife does more than just that. A woman can't
win a man's heart and love simply by abandoning her dignity, being shameless, and being skilled in bed .

To have lasting happiness, I have many things to do. I need to make myself beautiful,
elegant, cultured, and charming. I need to make him always pleased with me, and all his friends should
envy him. I need to care for him, be considerate of him, and obey him in life. I will cook the most delicious meals for him, wash
all his clothes, and care about everything concerning him. I will be by his side at all times, cherishing every moment
with , sharing his joys and sorrows. I will face life's trials and tribulations with him,
and never betray or leave him, through sickness and health. I will take good care of our home and our baby, easing his
burdens and always being his safe haven.

I speak from the heart, because I have no reason to lie to strangers.

Our blood and souls will one day merge. So, when I am old, when
I am no longer young, beautiful, or charming, when I can no longer hold him with sex, he
will still not want to leave or betray me.

At that time, he would feel that chatting with an old woman in a rocking chair would bring him more joy and happiness than keeping a mistress or visiting
a prostitute .

I believe I can do it.

I don't ask for a future life together, but I hope to be with him forever in this life. May our family of three be
together .

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