Fantasies come true

She was the object of my fantasies. We went out together many times, we kissed deeply, and gazed into each other's eyes

with deep affection. But I had a wife, and she had a boyfriend; we both carefully maintained our final line of defense. Whenever my wife and I had a fight, I would think of her incredibly sweet smile and her sweet, arousing words. We remained in this stalemate, maintaining this relationship, until she broke up with her boyfriend.

One day, she suddenly told me that she had broken up with her boyfriend. To be honest, I was very happy, but I still comforted her a few times. She was a very strong-willed woman with a bad temper; several boyfriends had left her. But only I knew her good qualities; she was very good at flirting, and her voice was so sweet it could drive anyone crazy. I had spent countless nights facing the wall, imagining her in my mind, and ejaculating violently.

I felt I couldn't hold back any longer; it was time to make my move.

My wife wasn't home that day, so we chatted on QQ. Suddenly, she asked me to call her. I called her for the first time. She started calm, but then suddenly lost control and started crying. She said she'd been drinking, she felt terrible, didn't know the meaning of life, and felt incredibly lonely in the big house. My heart was pounding. I made a firm decision: I would ignore my family and whether she would cling to me. I only knew I should let loose; I'd suppressed myself for too long.

I drove to her house. She opened the door, looking languid, but her face was flushed, as alluring as ever. She'd probably just showered; since it was summer, I was wearing a thin bathrobe, and the outline of my nipples was clearly visible. My penis immediately sprang to attention, and I quickly crouched down slightly, afraid she'd see my erection. I silently cursed those who broke up with her; they simply didn't know how to enjoy life. Such a beautiful woman—if it were me, I'd be exhausted every day.

She invited me to sit in the living room and then casually watched TV. I sat with her on the sofa and told her I didn't need to take the day off; I could finally relax. She became indifferent as usual, no longer as passionate as she had been on the phone. But I understood her; I knew her personality. So, I absolutely wouldn't miss this opportunity again.

I slowly moved closer to her, gently comforting her, saying everything would be alright, and that it was okay to break up with that kind of man. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she stubbornly turned her head away, saying she didn't care, that she was fine on her own. While she was still trying to hide it, seeing her tear-streaked face, I could no longer control myself and suddenly hugged her. She seemed very surprised, as if stunned for a moment, without any reaction.

I pressed my lips to hers, kissing her fiercely. At first, she resisted, pushing me away desperately with her hands, calling my name, saying, "What are you doing? No!" Later, she slowly began to respond. I forcefully shoved my tongue into her mouth, her breathing became rapid, her hands spread open, completely lost in desire. I could feel the hot breath from her mouth, hear her soft moans, and desperately sucked in her sweet saliva, feeling my heart pounding with excitement.

I knew I couldn't stop, or we might both regret it. So I pushed her onto the sofa and roughly kneaded her breasts. She cried out in pain, but her soft, nasal moans only fueled my lust.

I had fantasized about her breasts countless times, usually only able to feel their whiteness and softness through her low-cut clothes. This time, I decided to feast my eyes and my hands. I removed one hand from her neck and, with both hands, quickly pulled open her shirt.

I finally saw what I wanted to see, what had appeared in my dreams countless times. Her skin was very white, and her nipples were still bright red, impressively large. I admired her for ten seconds, swallowing hard. Her eyes were still closed, but her breathing began to slow. I knew I couldn't stop; I had to get started quickly, or all my efforts would be wasted. I raised both hands and began to fondle her breasts.

Her snow-white, pink breasts changed shape constantly in my palms. I could feel my teeth clenching, as if I wanted to tear her breasts apart. Her body arched upwards repeatedly, and with each exertion of force, she let out a soft cry, which only made me increase my strength. After a while, her breasts were red from my kneading.

I stopped the frantic kneading, buried my head in her chest, and gently bit her nipple with my mouth, while one hand caressed and gently kneaded her other breast. Her breathing gradually quickened, and she made "mmm" sounds from her nose. I knew everything was settled.

I reached behind her and lifted her upper body, allowing me to bury myself deeper into her cleavage. With my other hand, I began tentatively pulling down her yukata. She felt my movements, touched me lightly, and mumbled, "No, no..."

I didn't hesitate any longer. My hand didn't stop; I pressed on, pushing her yukata all the way to her feet. Perhaps feeling a coolness below, she suddenly opened her eyes and cried out, "No..."

Normally, I would have stopped. I'm arrogant; I think I would never force any girl, nor need to. But later, it proved that this old-fashioned thinking caused me to waste many opportunities and incurred the girls' dissatisfaction. I know she's conflicted, but this time, I'll make a decision for her.

I didn't even admire the appearance of her vulva before tentatively inserting my finger, simultaneously silencing her with my lips. Her body trembled violently, her hands gently pushing me away, pleading, "No, no, please." I knew I couldn't stop. Her lower body was already soaking wet, and she was making soft moaning sounds as her hands gradually loosened their grip. I slowly withdrew a finger, then rubbed her clitoris back and forth with my thumb.

Her vulva trembled, and a gush of fluid welled up. I joined my index and middle fingers together and slowly pushed them in. She let out a soft "ah," which made my blood boil even more. I gradually increased the speed of my finger's thrusts, while simultaneously increasing the pressure of my thumb's rubbing. Her moans grew louder, and her hands unconsciously caressed her breasts.

I felt the water gushing out of her pussy, and my fingers were tightly wrapped in the tender flesh. With every thrust of my fingers, her pussy tightened again and again. I can feel myself turning red, breathing faster, and the rhythm on my hands becoming more and more frequent.

Her screams began to get louder and louder, and her soft voice hit my eardrums again and again, making me feel the pleasure of conquest. Suddenly, her body jerked up and she let out a long cry. A stream of fuck fluid rushed toward my fingers. She actually had an orgasm due to my fingering.

I looked at her perfect body in amazement, and a strong sense of satisfaction made me almost dizzy. This is the first time I have seen a woman reach orgasm with my fingers, and she is such a beautiful woman. I decided to press my advantage, pulled down my pants, took out my already throbbing penis, took a deep breath, pressed it against her vulva, rubbed it left and right a couple of times, found the right spot, arched my back, and thrust in...

The feeling at that moment was absolutely incredible. I'm not a virgin, and I've had my share of women. But having someone I often fantasize about is incomparable. After I entered her, her body arched upwards sharply, letting out a long, low "Ah..." I didn't know her ex-boyfriends' sizes, but they clearly hadn't fully opened her up. Her vulva was hot, wet, and tight, making me feel incredibly good, I shivered all over, and almost ejaculated right there.

I kept my penis inside her vulva, fully experiencing her sensations. I gazed at her alluring face, her flowing hair, her proud breasts, and lifted her snow-white thighs high. Then, slowly, I withdrew my massive member from her honeypot, admiring the exposed flesh beneath my penis and the glistening fluid on it. I looked at her, and she looked at me. I whispered, "I finally have you." She closed her eyes and said, "Yes, you finally fucked me."

I took a breath and said, "Just taste me." Then I thrust in hard. My thigh slammed against her buttocks with a loud slap, my penis and her honeypot making tight contact. She screamed and dug her hands into the flesh of my back.

Facing the woman I had longed for day and night, I showed no mercy. I abandoned the practice of shallow penetration and began to thrust relentlessly, each time penetrating deep into her womb. I lifted her legs to their limit; I could even see her anus. I continued to thrust wildly, without rhythm or technique. Each thrust elicited a groan from her that could drive a man ecstatic. So I gritted my teeth, tightened my abdomen, and my buttocks trembled violently as I began wave after wave of frenzied thrusting.

At first, she cried out, but later her eyes closed tightly, her hands flailing wildly in the air. Seeing her conquered, I quickened my pace even further. Feeling a spasm in my lower abdomen, I abruptly stopped and flipped her onto me. Her eyes were glazed over, her upper body slumped against me, seemingly unable to move.

So, I held her ribs with both hands, thrusting my hips upwards, beginning the second round of thrusting. This position made it much easier for me, but the rhythm was faster. With each squelching sound of fucking, her body stiffened.

I didn't know why I was so powerful; after twenty minutes of intense fucking, I still hadn't ejaculated. She gritted her teeth and said fiercely, "You fucking want to fuck me to death, go ahead and fuck me to death if you dare." I guessed that because my erection had lasted so long earlier, I had passed the peak of arousal, hence my unusual stamina.

I laid her, almost limp, on the sofa, raised one of her legs high, clamped my legs around her buttocks, and thrust deeply once more. Because of the horizontal insertion, her vagina felt even tighter. I guessed she hadn't tried this position with her boyfriend before and was a little uncomfortable. When I entered, she cried out, "Go easy!" I felt my penis starting to arouse; I knew I couldn't handle her tightness anymore.

I held one of her snow-white legs tightly with both hands, and the frequency of my thrusts forward began to increase wildly. She no longer cared about suppressing herself, opening her mouth to groan loudly, mixed with curses. After thrusting dozens of times, I finally couldn't hold back any longer and poured all my heat into her honey hole...

We both collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted. She kept muttering, "You've fucked me to death, fucked me to death..." I felt a strange sense of loss. The woman of my dreams, I finally had her, but what did it all mean? What could I give her? Could I alleviate her pain?

I slowly stood up, feeling dizzy. I looked at the snow-white body before me, and the honeyed vulva gradually leaking white foam, but I had completely lost interest.

Isn't this the tragedy of men and the helplessness of women?

I didn't know what I would face next, but I knew that at least I wouldn't treat her as the object of my sexual fantasies anymore.

She also slowly sat up, waved her hand at me, and said, "Go away, go away..."

She was the object of my fantasies. We had gone out together many times, we had kissed deeply, and we had gazed deeply into each other's eyes. But I had a wife, she had a boyfriend, and we were both very careful to maintain our last line of defense.

Whenever my wife and I argued, I would think of her incredibly sweet smile and her sweet, aphrodisiac words. We remained in this stalemate, maintaining this relationship, until she broke up with her boyfriend.

One day, she suddenly told me she had broken up. To be honest, I was very happy, but I still offered her some words of comfort. She's a very strong-willed woman with a bad temper; several boyfriends had left her. But only I knew her good qualities; she was very good at flirting, and her voice was so sweet it could drive anyone crazy. Countless nights I had sat facing the wall, imagining her in my mind, and ejaculating violently.

I felt I couldn't hold back any longer; I had to make my move.

That day, my wife wasn't home, and we chatted on QQ. Later, she suddenly asked me to call her. So I called her for the first time to chat. She was calm at first, but then she lost control of her emotions and started crying. She said she had been drinking, she felt terrible, didn't know the meaning of life, and felt very lonely in the big house. My heart was pounding. I made a tough decision: I would ignore my family and whether she would cling to me. I only knew I should let loose; I had suppressed myself for too long.

I drove to her house. She opened the door, looking very languid, but her face was flushed, as alluring as ever. She had probably just taken a shower; since it was summer, I was wearing a thin bathrobe, and the outline of my nipples was very obvious. My penis immediately became erect, and I quickly crouched down slightly, afraid she would see my erection. I silently cursed those who broke up with her; they simply didn't know how to enjoy life. Such a beautiful woman—if it were me, I'd be exhausted every day.

She invited me to sit in the living room and then casually watched TV. I sat with her on the sofa and told her I didn't need to take the day off; I could finally relax. She became indifferent as usual, no longer as passionate as she had on the phone. But I understood her; I knew her personality. So, I absolutely wouldn't miss this opportunity again.

I slowly moved closer to her, gently comforting her, saying everything would be alright, and that it was okay to break up with that kind of man. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she immediately turned her head stubbornly, saying she didn't care, and that she was perfectly fine on her own. While she was still trying to hide it, seeing her tear-streaked face, I could no longer control myself and suddenly hugged her. She seemed very surprised, as if stunned for a moment, without any reaction.

I pressed my lips to hers and kissed her fiercely. At first, she resisted, pushing me away with all her might, calling my name, saying, "What are you doing? No!" Later, she slowly began to respond to me. I forcefully shoved my tongue into her mouth, her breathing became rapid, her hands spread to the sides, completely lost in desire. I could feel the hot breath from her mouth, hear her soft moans, and desperately sucked in her sweet saliva, feeling my heart pounding with excitement.

I knew I couldn't stop, otherwise we might both regret it. So I shoved her onto the sofa and began to roughly knead her breasts. She cried out in pain, but her soft, nasal moans only fueled my lust.

I had fantasized about her breasts countless times, usually only able to perceive their whiteness and softness through her low-cut dress. This time, I decided to feast my eyes and my hands. I removed one hand from her neck and, with both hands, swiftly pulled open her shirt.

I finally saw it—what I had longed to see, what had appeared in my dreams countless times. Her skin was incredibly white, and her nipples were still bright red, impressively large. I admired her for ten seconds, swallowing hard. Her eyes remained closed, but her breathing began to slow. I knew I couldn't stop; I had to get started quickly, or all my efforts would be wasted. I raised both hands and began to fondle her breasts.

Her snow-white, pink breasts changed shape constantly in my palms. I could feel my teeth clenching, as if I wanted to tear her breasts apart. Her body arched upwards repeatedly, and with each exertion of force, she let out a soft cry, which only made me increase my strength. After a while, her breasts were red from my kneading.

I stopped the frantic kneading, buried my head in her chest, and gently bit her nipple with my mouth, while one hand caressed and gently kneaded her other breast. Her breathing gradually quickened, and she made "mmm" sounds from her nose. I knew everything was settled.

I reached behind her and lifted her upper body, allowing me to bury myself deeper into her cleavage. With my other hand, I began tentatively pulling down her yukata. She felt my movements, touched me lightly, and mumbled, "No, no..."

I didn't hesitate any longer. My hand didn't stop; I pressed on, pushing her yukata all the way to her feet. Perhaps feeling a coolness below, she suddenly opened her eyes and cried out, "No..."

Normally, I would have stopped. I'm arrogant; I think I would never force any girl, nor need to. But later, it proved that this old-fashioned thinking caused me to waste many opportunities and incurred the girls' dissatisfaction. I know she's conflicted, but this time, I'll make a decision for her.

I didn't even admire the appearance of her vulva before tentatively inserting my finger, simultaneously silencing her with my lips. Her body trembled violently, her hands gently pushing me away, pleading, "No, no, please." I knew I couldn't stop. Her lower body was already soaking wet, and she was making soft moaning sounds as her hands gradually loosened their grip. I slowly withdrew a finger, then rubbed her clitoris back and forth with my thumb.

Her vulva trembled, and a gush of fluid welled up. I joined my index and middle fingers together and slowly pushed them in. She let out a soft "ah," which made my blood boil even more. I gradually increased the speed of my finger's thrusts, while simultaneously increasing the pressure of my thumb's rubbing. Her moans grew louder, and her hands unconsciously caressed her breasts.

I felt the water gushing out of her pussy, and my fingers were tightly wrapped in the tender flesh. With every thrust of my fingers, her pussy tightened again and again. I can feel myself turning red, breathing faster, and the rhythm on my hands becoming more and more frequent.

Her screams began to get louder and louder, and her soft voice hit my eardrums again and again, making me feel the pleasure of conquest. Suddenly, her body jerked up and she let out a long cry. A stream of fuck fluid rushed toward my fingers. She actually had an orgasm due to my fingering.

I looked at her perfect body in amazement, and a strong sense of satisfaction made me almost dizzy. This is the first time I have seen a woman reach orgasm with my fingers, and she is such a beautiful woman. I decided to press my advantage, pulled down my pants, took out my already throbbing penis, took a deep breath, pressed it against her vulva, rubbed it left and right a couple of times, found the right spot, arched my back, and thrust in...

The feeling at that moment was absolutely incredible. I'm not a virgin, and I've had my share of women. But having someone I often fantasize about is incomparable. After I entered her, her body arched upwards sharply, letting out a long, low "Ah..." I didn't know her ex-boyfriends' sizes, but they clearly hadn't fully opened her up. Her vulva was hot, wet, and tight, making me feel incredibly good, I shivered all over, and almost ejaculated right there.

I kept my penis inside her vulva, fully experiencing her sensations. I gazed at her alluring face, her flowing hair, her proud breasts, and lifted her snow-white thighs high. Then, slowly, I withdrew my massive member from her honeypot, admiring the exposed flesh beneath my penis and the glistening fluid on it. I looked at her, and she looked at me. I whispered, "I finally have you." She closed her eyes and said, "Yes, you finally fucked me."

I took a breath and said, "Just taste me." Then I thrust in hard. My thigh slammed against her buttocks with a loud slap, my penis and her honeypot making tight contact. She screamed and dug her hands into the flesh of my back.

Facing the woman I had longed for day and night, I showed no mercy. I abandoned the practice of shallow penetration and began to thrust relentlessly, each time penetrating deep into her womb. I lifted her legs to their limit; I could even see her anus. I continued to thrust wildly, without rhythm or technique. Each thrust elicited a groan from her that could drive a man ecstatic. So I gritted my teeth, tightened my abdomen, and my buttocks trembled violently as I began wave after wave of frenzied thrusting.

At first, she cried out, but later her eyes closed tightly, her hands flailing wildly in the air. Seeing her conquered, I quickened my pace even further. Feeling a spasm in my lower abdomen, I abruptly stopped and flipped her onto me. Her eyes were glazed over, her upper body slumped against me, seemingly unable to move.

So, I held her ribs with both hands, thrusting my hips upwards, beginning the second round of thrusting. This position made it much easier for me, but the rhythm was faster. With each squelching sound of fucking, her body stiffened.

I didn't know why I was so powerful; after twenty minutes of intense fucking, I still hadn't ejaculated. She gritted her teeth and said fiercely, "You fucking want to fuck me to death, go ahead and fuck me to death if you dare." I guessed that because my erection had lasted so long earlier, I had passed the peak of arousal, hence my unusual stamina.

I laid her, almost limp, on the sofa, raised one of her legs high, clamped my legs around her buttocks, and thrust deeply once more. Because of the horizontal insertion, her vagina felt even tighter. I guessed she hadn't tried this position with her boyfriend before and was a little uncomfortable. When I entered, she cried out, "Go easy!" I felt my penis starting to arouse; I knew I couldn't handle her tightness anymore.

I held one of her snow-white legs tightly with both hands, and the frequency of my thrusts forward began to increase wildly. She no longer cared about suppressing herself, opening her mouth to groan loudly, mixed with curses. After thrusting dozens of times, I finally couldn't hold back any longer and poured all my heat into her honey hole...

We both collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted. She kept muttering, "You've fucked me to death, fucked me to death..." I felt a strange sense of loss. The woman of my dreams, I finally had her, but what did it all mean? What could I give her? Could I alleviate her pain?

I slowly stood up, feeling dizzy. I looked at the snow-white body before me, and the honeyed vulva gradually leaking white foam, but I had completely lost interest.

Isn't this the tragedy of men and the helplessness of women?

I didn't know what I would face next, but I knew that at least I wouldn't use her as the object of my sexual fantasies anymore.

She slowly sat up too, waved her hand at me, and said, "Go, go..."

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Fantasies come true

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