Three unforgettable orgasms

My husband (Yangyang) and I are a classic case of rivals. We were classmates for three years in high school; he was the class monitor, and I was the Youth League secretary. We both loved to show off, vying for power and often getting into fights, neither of us able to convince the other. Actually, we admired each other, and these clashes added a lot of fun to our tense high school life.

Later, we went our separate ways to different universities. Surprisingly, four years later, we returned to our own cities and formed a "double peak" family. He's definitely not henpecked, and I'm not exactly easy to deal with either; we even often fight over the TV remote. He's the only son in three generations, a pampered "prince," and his family has always indulged him, so his competitive nature is a stubborn ailment, difficult to cure. It's rare that we can agree on some things, like watching football, but our teams and favorite players are completely different. So, debates become a regular occurrence in our lives. If the house is quiet at night, it's definitely because we're both brushing our teeth.

However, I must admit we're both quite witty and optimistic about everything. As for our sex life, it's equally shrouded in a power struggle, a constant battle of wills, a real contest between two titans. Outsiders can't see the excitement and drama of our intimate moments. I love children and want to get pregnant, while he cherishes our life as a couple. Therefore, he's incredibly meticulous about contraception, almost like airport security in the US after 9/11, always on edge. He says men also have reproductive rights, while I insist my uterus is my own. Later, after some less-than-honorable cheating, I finally got pregnant. He argued with me for three days and three nights, and gave me the cold shoulder for half a month. Eventually, it became a fait accompli, and he had no choice but to accept it, knowing he also had to "bear the consequences."

After that, he adopted a more domineering and authoritarian approach to sex. I wasn't going to back down, and on our small double bed, we engaged in a series of thrilling power struggles, each with our own victories and defeats, a never-ending battle of wills.

After showering, I'd put on some perfume, or walk past him disheveled, and he'd cross his legs and, feigning seriousness, warn, "Don't seduce me, miss!" or "Please, don't tempt me anymore, I'm a weak-willed person!" My affections were met with indifference, but I was stubborn and retorted irritably, "A toad trying to eat swan meat? No way!" Or I'd simply say, "You're delusional, you underestimate me!" In short, we both wanted to play the senior, to be the "supreme," but usually, he'd end up "solving" the problem. Then, I could play the aloof beauty, feigning impatience and saying something like, "Looks like you're pretty hungry, alright, poor thing, come on!" Stubborn on the outside, soft on the inside—that's our common trait. I must admit, this game is quite fun. Many of my close female friends complain that sex with their husbands is like chewing wax; whenever this happens, a warm sense of happiness wells up inside me, and our sex is filled with the fresh scent of milk.

Every nightfall, I always have something to look forward to. I love flirting, and I feel completely intoxicated when he's driven mad with desire in front of me. Each time, I experience the joy and satisfaction of "victory." And him? He's also full of ambition and high spirits, as if he's conquered Mount Everest. Sometimes he calls me "Everest" too, because even heroes can't surpass this "peak," and because I look taller than him (in fact, he is taller than me). So, in his view, "reaching the summit" means lifting me up in mid-air. Every time he carries me on his shoulders and spins me around, I giggle and scream "Help!" He's especially happy then, until I'm exhausted and "beg for mercy." Once, I got angry and pretended to "faint" and pass out. He frantically performed CPR, calling my name in a trembling voice. I finally couldn't help but "recover" my breathing and burst into laughter. He's cutest when he's being teased; I love playing pranks on him.

However, when I daydream, I often imagine him as a bandit kingpin and me as a virtuous woman he kidnapped, forced to become his "bandit wife". This kind of fantasy is wonderful, really, I don't know why. When I told him this idea, he was very excited. Of course, the game we played most often was tickling each other. He was more sensitive than me. As soon as I put my finger to my lips and "breathe", he was already scared and hid by the bedside table with a laugh...

In my "erotic diary", there are three climaxes that I remember most.

(1) It was a stormy midnight with thunder and lightning. I am naturally afraid of thunder and rain, so I hurriedly ran from the study to the bedroom and threw myself into his arms. His "hero saves the beauty" complex was immediately aroused. He gently covered my ears and gently stroked my hair, giving a frightened little deer a full sense of security. Then, he couldn't help but give me a grand favor from above. That night, I completely surrendered to his embrace...

(2) On my 30th birthday, he was so busy with a company meeting in the morning and a business negotiation in the afternoon that he forgot to buy me a birthday cake and flowers. When he hurriedly opened the door after midnight, I found that his hands were empty. I immediately turned against him. When he realized what was happening, it was too late. I sat silently on a rattan chair, like a queen in the matriarchal era, my chest heaving and my eyes blazing! He hurriedly apologized and tried to please me. Finally, he knelt down and massaged my feet. He was not afraid of getting "dirty" or tired. He was loyal and full of remorse. It was heartbreaking. I finally lowered my noble head and leaned on his sweaty shoulder. I "granted" him the privilege of undressing me... He suddenly became active as if by divine intervention. He launched a wild attack like a revenge, which I will never forget. From queen to his captive, the change of roles gave me a sense of exhilaration.

(3) On the sixth night after my son's one-month celebration, I was happily breastfeeding the little guy. My husband watched with a hint of jealousy, swallowing his saliva with endless envy. I couldn't help but laugh when I saw his Adam's apple bobbing. He said coquettishly, "A full stomach doesn't know the hunger of a starving person!" He had that ability to make you laugh with just one sentence. Finally, after feeding and putting my son to sleep, my husband couldn't wait to come over, playfully waving his fist at the little baby's head a few times, and then said with a grin, "Finally, I've vented my anger!" He was so childlike, as if he was competing with his little son for the "job". My maternal instincts expanded inexplicably, and I lovingly took him into my arms. He breathed in my mouth greedily. That night, I dominated everything and became the symbol of power. He was so obedient, as docile as a weaned calf. We reached the peak of our excitement once again... [ Last edited by shinyuu1988 on 2010-5-16 18:05 ]

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Three unforgettable orgasms

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