I cheated on my husband while I was away on a business trip.

I came abroad six years ago and met my current husband. We both come from ordinary families, studied hard, and worked diligently. We were attracted to each other at work, gradually grew closer, and got married a little over a year ago.
We slept together not long after we started dating. He has the face of an innocent young man, but his penis is surprisingly large, which initially made me very uncomfortable. Fortunately, I was already feeling aroused and my private parts were very wet, so I reluctantly cooperated with him. He is 1.78 meters tall, with strong arm and back muscles, and could easily lift me (1.65 meters tall) up and play with me like a train. To be honest, I didn't experience much pleasure at the time because of nervousness, but I felt that he was teachable and that with proper guidance, we could have a happy sex life. However, we didn't have sex as frequently as with my previous boyfriends, at most twice a week. I think it's because we were both quite busy and tired from work.
After we got married, it became even less frequent. We would only have sex once a week on weekends, like submitting an assignment, for about 20 minutes. Sometimes something else would happen, and we would skip it altogether. Sometimes it was only once a month. I bought four boxes of eight-piece condoms when we got married, and I still have some left.
My husband usually doesn't do foreplay; he just uses his fingers to check if I'm wet. When I ask him to caress me, he's very clumsy, and my attempts to guide him seem to annoy him. Frustrated, I bought a vibrator-like toy, which made my husband very angry. I don't know if it hurt his male pride or if he's fundamentally disgusted by promiscuous women.
My husband can't have sex without watching porn, especially innocent school swimsuits and massage girls with large breasts. He'll stop mid-sex to operate the mouse. At these times, I feel particularly strange; perhaps my husband is indulging in his sexual fantasies.
My husband prefers masturbating to having sex with me, and he doesn't hide this fact. Sometimes, late at night, I can hear faint moans from porn actresses coming from the living room, while I pretend to be asleep in my room. When I come back from going out, my husband tells me that he heard the neighbor's wife's voice outside the window and it made him so aroused that he masturbated a couple of times. So, my homework for the week is basically on vacation.
I'm just over thirty, but it seems like my libido is getting stronger. At work and outside, many men fawn over me, and I can only smile and brush them off. When I get home, I imagine being held tightly in the arms of a strange man, and using a vibrator to achieve orgasm before my husband gets home. Looking in the mirror while showering, I feel sad that no one touches my still-youthful body.
A while ago, I went on a business trip to S city in China and finally had a one-night stand with a stranger—I was the one who initiated it. I originally thought it was just a way to indulge myself in a faraway place, but unexpectedly, some things changed irreversibly.
During a break from my business trip, I met up with an old high school friend, and we had a great time. My friend and his wife came over, and the two of them were so affectionate that I wanted to disappear and let them have their way with each other. Especially recalling my friend's impressive physique... well, his wife probably doesn't know, but I was her husband's first girlfriend. We never actually had sex, but I'd touched and witnessed it, and I'd fantasized about the couple making babies. After saying goodbye to my friend, my lower body was completely soaked.
After struggling for a long time, I tried searching for "S City Wolves" groups, posted a picture of myself, and started my first hookup. My requirements weren't high, but he had to be able to come immediately. I chatted with one guy for a bit and found him quite compatible, although his appearance... was very different from my husband's. He spoke very gently, and since he lived nearby, I invited him to my hotel.
He arrived about half an hour later. I was so nervous I couldn't speak, but he greeted me naturally and then went to take a shower. He wasn't exactly tall and handsome, wore engineer's glasses, and had a deep voice with a southern accent. He was five years younger than me. I waited for him to come out of the shower, my anxiety growing, but my lower body was incredibly wet, almost soaking through my underwear.
After he came out, he wrapped himself in a towel, sat next to me, and chatted for a while, telling me not to be too nervous. Then he leaned in and started kissing me. His kiss had a faint smell of smoke, but I didn't find it offensive at all. He pried open my lips and teased me with his tongue… Oh my god, the last time I was kissed like that was eight years ago! He pulled the towel off his waist and straddled me. I thought he was going to penetrate me, and my heart started pounding again. But instead, he lowered his head and gently kissed my nipples. I've always been most insecure about my A-cup, but he kissed them so intently. Later, he said to me, "They're so cute, all pink." Then he kissed my body just as carefully, being careful not to leave any hickeys. So thoughtful. Just when I thought I'd made the right choice today, he suddenly looked up and asked me, "How about I lick you?" I panicked because I'd never had any experience with this before, and I quickly pulled away. He smiled and said, "I want to make you feel good too."
In the end, he licked me a little, then I ran away and started giving him oral sex, firmly refusing 69. His was shorter than my husband's, but thicker, and he looked rather muscular, seemingly enjoying licking my testicles and the back of my penis. I licked diligently, imagining what it would be like to be penetrated by that thing, and clear fluid dripped down my thighs. After a while, he got up, put on a condom, and carefully entered me. He penetrated very seriously, and I could feel him paying attention to my reactions and controlling the rhythm. Usually, I finish quickly when I'm with my husband, but this time, we tried several positions, and I became even wetter. It felt amazing, and the pleasure was continuous! If he could reach me, he would massage my clitoris or caress my body. His hands seemed to have magic; they felt even better than I could touch myself. When they brushed against my clitoris, it felt like they electrified my body, making me contract in waves. And when I was even more eager, he would cooperate, increasing the pressure and thrusting deeper, giving me long, wet kisses. I seemed to forget that I was married, becoming a slut, only caring about enjoying the rain after a long drought.
Three hours later, he finished tidying up and said to me, "Then I'm leaving." I still didn't dare to look him in the eye, and only whispered, "Thank you, it was very comfortable," before closing the door. A while later, I received a message on my phone saying "Thank you." Later, I realized he hadn't had dinner yet; he must be tired and hungry.
The next day, I was busy with work as usual, and the passion of the previous night was temporarily put aside until I received his message after returning to the hotel that evening: "I'm in a bad mood today, can I come see you?" He repeatedly emphasized that he had something unpleasant happening today and really wanted to see me again. He said that even if I was tired, it didn't have to be done; he just wanted someone to talk to. (I thought to myself, of course I'd do it!) Because I had an important presentation the next day, I kept refusing him, but he was reluctant to
let me go. I'm not good at this kind of thing, so I finally softened and agreed. He didn't come until almost midnight. After opening the door, he pressed me against the wall and kissed me roughly without saying a word. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest! ...I can't help it; I'm just susceptible to this kind of thing.
After showering, he didn't stand on ceremony at all. While I was still wondering what he would talk to me about first, he had already pinned me down and pushed my nightgown up. The fact that I wasn't wearing underwear was exposed, but he didn't seem surprised. I thought he would take it slow like yesterday, but instead, slightly drunk, he pressed his hands on my shoulders and forcefully thrust into me from the front. "I'm not wearing a condom..." Before I could even utter a sound, the hot, full sensation overwhelmed me. This feeling of being conquered was truly wonderful... But he didn't forget the rhythm of depth, sometimes rubbing against the entrance until my whole body went numb, sometimes attacking deep inside until I couldn't help but cry out. The second time we met, I loosened up a bit, whispering, "It feels so good... it's hitting me again..." I even sat on him in the cowgirl position. With my back to him, I moved up and down, occasionally glancing back at his expression of enjoyment, imagining our joined bodies completely exposed to him. Waves of pleasure washed over me, and deep down, it felt like I was declaring to my husband: I am this wanton woman!
This time, it took a long time, but he didn't ejaculate. I was exhausted and sleepy, and I complained that I didn't want to play anymore and wanted to go to sleep. He was still rock hard, both amused and exasperated, so he hugged me tightly for a while and chatted with me. I still miss that hug so much; it was so honest, so loving yet strong, and I could clearly hear his heartbeat. He said he couldn't tell I was over thirty, and asked why I wasn't married yet. I didn't want him to be too proud and cheat on me with other men, so I just made up an excuse. He actually kept talking for a long time, telling me his name, what he did for a living, where I was from, where I went to university, what I did for a living, and whether I often came here for business... I was so tired that I fell asleep without even realizing it.
In a hazy, dreamlike state, I felt someone gently caressing my buttocks, their fingers groping for the entrance. I inexplicably became wet instantly, and then something hot and thick entered me from behind. This time, there was no gentle, slow, or gentle rhythm; instead, it was a resolute, slow motion, which I found incredibly pleasurable. It was pitch black all around, and I was being invaded from behind by a strange man from an unknown distance. (Does this count as a stranger meeting for the second time?) I even began to wonder if I was dreaming. After what seemed like an eternity, his pace quickened, and he suddenly withdrew, pressing his hand against my buttocks, releasing a gush of heat. I turned on the light; it was 4:30 AM. When I
woke up in the morning, he had reverted to his cool demeanor, silently leaving the house. A while later, I received another message on my phone: "I really have feelings for you." "Do you know why I like you? The first day after we finished, you poured me a glass of water, and this morning you prepared everything, even folding my clothes. I was so touched."
He's still a young kid, so easily saying he likes someone… I thought to myself, as I began preparing my report for the end of my business trip. Tomorrow, I'll be returning abroad.
That evening, I declined my local colleague's invitation, quickly bought some things I wanted to take back, and went back to pack my luggage. Just then, my phone received another message: "Can we go again today? I won't see you tomorrow."
"…………I give up, I'll wait for you."
After sending the message, my face flushed red. That mix of anticipation and shyness made my heart pound. I guess subconsciously, that's why I turned down my colleague's invitation.
That night, we went wild. He pinned me down on the sofa and stood while he fucked me, then pulled me up, making me hold onto the sofa while he penetrated me from behind. The worst part was that he deliberately opened all the windows, asking me if I was enjoying it while he fucked me under the bright lights outside. He made me lie flat, looking at my face as he penetrated my mouth, then tried to persuade me to have anal sex, which I refused. He made me lick him, his tongue sliding from my anus to the glans. Finally, he pulled out and ejaculated all over my face and mouth, making me swallow it all.
Afterwards, we hugged and chatted. He was quite surprised when he learned I wasn't in the country. He asked me a lot of questions: why I went abroad, where I was, what the environment was like, how easy it was to find a job, how high the housing prices were… and then he said he wanted to come visit me. I said, "Sure, sure, the natural environment there is really nice!" (We were just casual acquaintances, of course I wouldn't really consider it.)
It seems he solemnly said he liked me? I don't remember, I was too tired, I slept soundly.
At dawn, I waved goodbye and rushed to the airport. I felt sorry for him; he worked until midnight, got up early without breakfast, and I made him leave, and he still had to go to work. Even someone young can't withstand that kind of ordeal. The flight was also quite bumpy; I didn't arrive at the local airport until late at night, stayed overnight, and went home the next day.
Not long after I got off the plane, I received a message from him. I don't know why, but I was so happy! I usually use WeChat with friends and family, but I added him for convenience.
A while later, he messaged me: "You got married?!"
That's when I realized he had seen all the photos of me and my husband on my WeChat Moments. I felt really ashamed and kept apologizing, but he seemed very angry.
"I feel terrible right now."
"Even if I go to your place, you won't see me, right?"
"If I had known I would like you this much, I wouldn't have gone to see you in the first place."
He talked for a long time before finally calming down and telling me to come see him next time I went on a business trip.
I returned to the environment I've always lived in, the familiar blue sky and green mountains. But the occasional flashing of my phone light reminded me that some things had changed.
The day after I got back, I got my period. I regretted it so much. I should have let him ejaculate inside me. I wanted to hold him and feel his climax. That way, I would have an excuse not to do it with my husband... Actually, my husband probably didn't want to either (sigh).
When I saw my husband, I smiled and handed him a bottle of whiskey recommended by the duty-free shop assistant. My husband excitedly exclaimed, "Wow! It's 2018 xxxxx!..." I didn't understand what he was saying and had no interest in it. Looking at my husband's happy face, I felt a sense of relief, like I had completed a task.
While watching TV, my husband rested his head on my lap and started patting my butt. Suddenly, a wave of disgust washed over me. What was he doing patting me like that? How many times have I told you I like being caressed! I forced myself to get up and go to the bathroom.
As my physical desires subsided, I waited with trepidation for my first time having sex with my husband after our affair. It was the same old penetration and thrusting, but I couldn't shake the feeling of repulsion I had. Is it true that women can't separate sex and love?! To avoid losing control, I desperately imagined what it would be like with him. My husband thrust from behind for about ten minutes, then said he couldn't ejaculate today. Although I knew the reason, I still cautiously asked, "Are you feeling unwell?" My husband frankly admitted, "With you gone, I masturbate twice a day, how am I going to have any left over?" Then we silently separated, showered, and went to sleep. That was the last time we ever did it.
Reality and fantasy sometimes intertwine, sometimes they are so clearly and cruelly intertwined.
Sometimes I get off work early and secretly masturbate alone. He, far away, announces fiercely on his phone that next time we see each other, he'll lick me properly and make me squirt, or he'll ejaculate inside me. Watching his semen flow from my vagina, all of this makes me involuntarily reach for my genitals. His gentle hands kept flashing through my mind, caressing every part of my body, his fingers teasing me until I reached my climax. Suddenly, I felt an urge to cry; it was the first time in my life I'd reached orgasm without self-control.
I felt guilty, knowing I couldn't let things continue like this. My husband and I had overcome so much to be together; we were close, our relationship harmonious, our jobs stable, our futures bright, and both sets of parents were urging us to have a baby—that would be the perfect family. I started trying to get back on track.
I tried to cut off contact with him, but that failed easily. He said, "Please! Don't delete me, don't ban me from following you!... Otherwise, I'll really never find you again!" I immediately gave in; I couldn't give up, even on something as purely imaginary as him.
On my husband's birthday, I secretly bought him a pair of hiking boots he'd been eyeing for a long time. He was overjoyed, practically skipping and jumping with excitement. Then he immediately bought a leather care set and spent the whole night sitting in the corner of the living room using a wax camera, oblivious to me quietly waiting in the bedroom after changing into my lace t-shirt.
Where is that man who was moved by a glass of water right now?
He's working overtime and texts me.
"Can't concentrate, my mind is full of you."
"So hard, I want to do it."
"I like you now, it feels so strange to do it with someone else."
Little does he know I'm suffering the same torment, and this torment only intensifies with each passing day. I have a predetermined path to walk, and one day he too will find someone else and settle down. I live each day knowing this, filled with resentment yet powerless to change it. In my dreams, I seem to return to that night, that unforgettable embrace, and the psychological gap upon waking is utterly depressing!
One day he suddenly sent me a message: "If she is naive, take her to see the world's splendor; if her heart is weary, take her on a carousel." I scoffed at him: "That joke's all over the internet." He said seriously, "But I really want to take you on a carousel."... I'm completely defenseless against this kind of thing. Please don't do this to me; I'm so easily moved...
Reality remains reality, and I started thinking again about how to be affectionate with my husband. Taking advantage of his invitation to go to a winery, I suggested that since we'd been drinking and driving wouldn't be convenient, we could stay overnight nearby. I carefully selected a charming mountain lodge with a large double bathtub facing the forest on the open-air balcony, and even prepared pajamas and birth control pills. However, after checking in, my husband made no attempt to hide his disappointment, feeling the conditions weren't as luxurious as he'd imagined. Then we went to the balcony for a bath together, facing the afternoon forest—the scenery was beautiful, and the air was fresh. To cheer him up, I took out my phone and said, "Can you take some pictures for me?" My husband, however, reacted indifferently, snapping a couple of photos and saying, "Why take pictures like this?" I decided to go all out and stood up, turning my back to him, saying, "Let's take another picture like this." My waist is very slim, and my buttocks are white, smooth, and very elastic. My husband usually loves to touch them, but he remained unmoved. After taking the picture, he glanced at it and suddenly burst out laughing: "Look! Your butt is showing!"
A strong sense of frustration, disappointment, and depression... all sorts of negative emotions instantly invaded my brain. "Hold on, hold on!" I told myself, but my mind was filled with the image of him gently licking my nipples, "So cute, so pink..."
After dinner, my husband was playing on his phone in bed. I crawled over and squeezed next to him, hugging him and acting coquettishly, "Stop playing on your phone, keep me company..." He turned around, and we finally kissed. Our lips gently touched, and I tried to open his teeth, but my husband remained motionless like a stone. Slowly, the resistance and grievances welled up in my heart like a tide, drowning my lips and flowing down my cheeks. My husband slowly moved his lips away and asked, "Why are you crying?" (You know, right!)
Anyone who's ever cried knows that once the tears start, they just won't stop. I choked back sobs, unable to utter a single word for a long time. Finally, I calmed myself down and desperately tried to encourage myself, "Communication is the most important thing!" Then, word by word, I told my husband how much I wished he could be more affectionate, how much I wished he wouldn't ask me so loudly, "Want to do it? If you want to, hurry up and put the diaper in," how much I wished he could hug me afterward instead of immediately going to shower, go online, or play games… After a long silence, my husband said, "What you're saying makes me feel terrible," and then he turned over and got into bed.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. My room service had arrived, and the hotel owners, a smiling couple, brought over a couple's cake. In the flickering candlelight, the words I had written on the cake, "For the most important you," seemed so glaring. I didn't know what to do; I just wanted to escape this suffocating atmosphere. I couldn't utter a single word, because if I opened my mouth, tears would well up in my eyes. That night, I soaked in the large bathtub on the balcony for a very long time. The sky was overcast, and I couldn't see any stars. One moment I wondered if my husband was also pondering our relationship, just like I was. The next, I remembered him saying, "I want to make love with you in the bathtub, it feels so good..."
Lost in thought, I suddenly heard a man's voice nearby, probably another guest passing by. The voice was deep, yet full of joy, and somehow I felt a surge of heat—I had been looking forward to making love tonight for so long! At the same time, I felt incredibly ashamed: I had become so aroused just from hearing a strange man's voice; I was such a slut!
When I returned to the room, my husband was already snoring. Nothing more was said
that night. I had cried to him about my troubles that night, but I quickly regretted it. What was the point? He couldn't do anything about it; it would only upset him. But I was confused. If I couldn't even tell him, what should I do? My friends are mostly my husband's colleagues; I can't talk to them about these things. I'm such a selfish person. I forgot what he said: "I have no right to say anything about you and your husband doing it, but don't tell me, it will make me very sad." Actually, he was silent for a long time before finally saying, "Think about happy things. Your happiness is my happiness." I felt so sorry for him, I wanted to protect everyone from suffering… but I couldn't find a good way.
The next morning, my husband and I went for a walk in the nearby forest park. The weather was truly uplifting. The morning sunlight filtered through the green leaves, vines entwined the roadside wooden posts and tables, flowers bloomed on the roofs of the wooden cabins in the forest, birds sang in the branches, and a waterfall murmured in the distance. Everything was so beautiful, and the man beside me, holding my hand, felt so real that I began to doubt if last night was a nightmare, and my tears had only fallen on the pillow.
After walking for a while, we turned a corner in the woods, and a shimmering carousel appeared suddenly before us like magic!
It appeared so abruptly, the bright red canopy and the colorful horses contrasting sharply with the surrounding green world, making it seem as grand as a castle. Countless colorful lights raced along the eaves and pillars, making me momentarily mistakenly believe the horses were about to move as well. Too shocked to recover, I lingered for a moment. The gentle morning sunlight embraced me like it was him, and I could almost hear his earnest whisper, "...I want to take you for a ride..."
My husband, who had already walked away, called out to me, pulling me back to reality. Seeing me turn around, he suddenly burst into laughter: "You look hilarious standing with these horses! Come on, let me take a picture of you."
I smiled and struck a pose, shouting, "Okay!"
On the horizon, dark clouds were quietly approaching.

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I cheated on my husband while I was away on a business trip.

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