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I met her three weeks ago in a chat room on a website, a couples-swapping site.

She said she was looking for a partner, and I told her I didn't have a husband and wasn't married. So we chatted, talking about our views on sex and couples-swapping. She was a teacher, and I was surprised when I learned her profession—teachers and doctors, I used to think of them as otherworldly. She asked me what I thought of wife-swapping, and I said it was interesting and exciting, right? I've always liked exciting things, like having affairs. I once had sex with my boss in the office; the mirror was one-way, so we could see our colleagues working outside, their busy figures, while he was entering my body.

She asked, "Have you ever thought about a threesome?"

Of course, but it's hard to find a suitable partner; safety is the primary concern.

She hesitated for a long time, then said, "My husband suggested we meet."

We met in a KFC. I arrived first, lit a cigarette, and waited expressionlessly. I got up several times to leave, but couldn't. "You're a slutty woman," I told myself. "A long time ago, I started fantasizing about threesomes, three bodies entwined, a frenzied, relentless thrusting, without emotion, without morality, without shame, only the most basic needs, human needs." Actually, what attracted me wasn't sex itself. In this society, finding someone to sleep with is probably easier than buying a newspaper on the street. What truly attracted me was the sense of accomplishment from breaking rules and challenging morality.

They arrived. The woman wore the red shirt we'd agreed on online; her breasts were high. I suddenly had the urge to touch them. What would it be like to sleep with a woman? The man wasn't tall, but he had a strong build. My gaze naturally drifted to his crotch, but I couldn't discern his size. I waved my hand, and they came over, sat down, and asked, "What would you like?" "I can't ask, we're leaving soon," the woman said. An

awkward silence followed. Good, I was satisfied with this silence; at least it meant they weren't seasoned threesomers. "

What do you do?" the man asked.

"Secretary." I exhaled a puff of smoke, thinking, "What do you think I am? A prostitute?"

We continued talking about things like the weather and Chinese football. Five minutes later, they got up.

Bye. I sat on the stool, thinking, "That's it? It felt like an interview." What a joke.

Three days later, I received a call from her. "Did I fail my exam?" I teased her, trying to sound relaxed. "

Are you free tonight? Come over." Her voice trembled slightly.

My heart pounded. It's for real. To go or not to go?

I'll go. I want to see what it's like. I have to go. As I made up my mind, a sense of tragic heroism washed over me, as if I weren't going to bed, but sacrificing myself for some great cause.

I tried to take a nap in the afternoon to improve my condition for the evening, but I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. The stimulation of the three of us led me to masturbate twice in a daze.

The man was already inside the woman. My limp body leaned against the doorframe. "No, I can't, you can't," a voice inside me cried. Slowly, I turned around, walked back to the living room, picked up my schoolbag, and headed for the door. As I passed the bedroom, I couldn't help but glance back. The woman was also looking towards the door. We exchanged a glance. "I'll go first," I murmured. Then I walked towards the door.

Suddenly, my hand was grabbed. It was the man. He turned me around and kissed me. I shook my head back and forth, not wanting to kiss a complete stranger, even though I could sleep with him. His hands tore open my shirt, kneading my breasts. My lower body began to swell, and my schoolbag fell to the floor. His naked genitals rubbed against me, his manhood swaying.

I began to moan, letting him caress me. At that moment, another pair of hands slowly caressed my thighs. Oh, it was her. She licked through my underwear, her hands tracing patterns on my legs.

I couldn't resist; the temptation was too strong, and I had no choice but to surrender.

The three of us climbed onto the bed. The woman straddled my legs, kissing me, while the man put his penis in my mouth, which I sucked. The man's hands roamed over my body, and I began to scream loudly. The man's penis was already inside me, and he slowly thrust in and out. I knew nothing more; my only desire was for a huge, thick, hot penis.

The woman knelt beside me, kissing my breasts. I reached out and caressed her. Her body was so soft; I couldn't help but slide my hand down. Her vulva quickly accepted my fingers, and my thumb rubbed her clitoris. She breathed heavily and began to swear. I pulled her close, made her straddle my face, and began to give her oral sex. This is what a woman's vulva looks like. It's the first time I've seen it so clearly. I tentatively licked it with my tongue, and she shuddered, letting out a moan that sounded like she was crying. It was quite interesting. I continued licking, while the man kneaded the woman's breasts, his penis continuing to thrust. This is what a woman's fluid tastes like—a little astringent. The woman seemed a little tired; she climbed down, crawled to my side, and licked the point where my penis and the man were joined.

The man's penis was pulled out a little, still wet with my fluids, and she would lick it. Clearly, this action aroused everyone. The man started to speed up, and I couldn't help but shout. His penis was pounding roughly, as if he wanted to tear it apart. The woman stimulated my breasts with her hands. "Oh, I'm coming!" I shouted, my body starting to spasm. The man thrust forcefully, then his whole body stiffened as he waited, his penis dancing inside. Finally, he ejaculated.

All three of us were exhausted, no one speaking. The man had already slid out, lying in the middle, his left arm around me, his right arm around his wife. He played with our breasts, without saying a word. I closed my eyes, thinking that when I opened them, I would find it was just another erotic dream, like any other dream I'd had before, where nothing had actually happened.

The woman seemed shy too, nestled in the man's arms. I sat up, looking for my underwear. Just then, there was some movement at the door. I looked up and saw a naked man standing there. "

Our neighbor," the man said. "Aren't you alone? We called him."

I realized who I'd called earlier.

The man walked to the bed, looked at me, and asked, "Was it you who called?"

I ignored him and continued looking for my underwear.

Suddenly, my arm was grabbed, and he pulled me to the middle of the bed.

I struggled. Having sex with a stranger was fine, but not being forced.

The man joined in, holding me down with four hands. Two penises were dangling in front of me, one shrunken, the other erect.

The woman looked at me. "Don't be afraid, it'll be over soon." She took a black cloth from under the pillow and blindfolded me.

A penis was thrust in without warning. It must be the new man's; the original couldn't have recovered so quickly. Someone else was licking me—was it the woman again? Or the man? I didn't know. In that instant, a phrase came to mind: "Life is like being raped; if you can't change it, then enjoy it."

I relaxed a little. The man's thrusting continued. A hand pinched my nipple; I couldn't tell whose hand it was. A penis hit my nose. I opened my mouth, and it went in. I sucked hard. Soon it hardened and was pulled out of my mouth, the other penis sliding out as well. Soon, a new one was added. Whose was this? Had someone else joined in? Or was it the one I had just swallowed? What was that lubricating liquid?

My saliva? Or someone else's fluid? Where was the woman? Had the one that had just left my body gone back into her? That long, hot thing... I wondered how many times they had ejaculated. I felt my body covered in male fluid, like a bottle filled with semen. I remembered a line from a pornographic novel I had once read.

Looking back now, it still feels exciting, so I joined a group sex club and a wife-swapping club, where I enjoyed sex many times.

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