My first night with my husband after marriage

I sat facing Yibo, and we started by talking about our jobs. When we ran out of things to say, we talked about current events,
but it ended in silence. This was my first and last boring blind date before my wedding.

Unexpectedly, not long after, our parents started discussing buying a house for the wedding.
I cried for a long time, but in the end, I could only put on heavy makeup and walk down the aisle. That day, I didn't dare look
at Yibo , afraid I would burst into tears. I could only force a smile and politely greet the people who came to congratulate me.

After the banquet, even the people who came to tease the newlyweds didn't dare to cause
trouble This was the only thing that comforted me that day. In the early morning, after seeing off the last few guests,
Yibo, his neck flushed, came to the bedside. I sat on the bed watching TV, pretending not to know anything. His hands were around my
waist , and I suddenly became very nervous. Aside from the fact that Yibo wasn't my type, I
felt like a complete stranger to him. The scary thing was, I was becoming the wife of this "stranger."

The lights in the room went out, leaving only the flickering light from the television. Yibo put his arm around my shoulder, his other
hand caressing me. I didn't refuse, nor did I have any reason to.

It felt like a martyr going to his execution; the steely resolve made me feel relieved. Perhaps it was the uncontrollable pleasure in my body
that gave me forgiveness and acceptance…

We did it in that environment. I felt almost no pleasure, only the news on TV and Yibo
panting heavily on top of me. I didn't even notice if he was aroused. It seemed like only a blink of an
eye With him inside me, we had overcome the most difficult hurdle between love and reality. My mind
was still replaying the resentful look in my boyfriend's eyes
and the vicious curses he uttered after he found out I was going to marry another man.

But I didn't shed a single tear, nor did I feel any sadness. I even suspected that I was the woman
he described who had sold herself for profit.

Suddenly, I instinctively wrapped my arms around Yibo, who was moving on top of me. At that moment, I needed a strong
arm … I only realized it was over when Yibo got up to shower.

While he was showering, I was already thinking about how we were going to sleep that night. I was afraid of both of us lying naked under the same blanket, and
what if he wanted to do something else? I hated this kind of perfunctory approach; I strongly wanted to be alone. Of course, saying
it would hurt him to some extent. I didn't know how to bring it up, and suddenly a wave of sadness washed over me… My emotions
plummeted.

The sound of running water in the bathroom brought out my first tear of the night, and then it was unstoppable.
I suddenly longed for anyone who cared about me, anyone who had ever shown me concern, even
other men who frequently expressed their affection for me. Warm tears soaked the corner of my pillow, quickly turning cold…

A man came out of the bathroom, knelt on the bed, seemingly wanting to see what was wrong with me, but in the end, he left
the bed and rested on the sofa. This made me feel a little guilty. Should I ask him to come and sleep with me? But I was also afraid
of being anxious and not sleeping soundly. I'm rather selfish after all. With these complex and fluctuating feelings, I managed
to get through this difficult night peacefully.

I remember later telling one of my best friends, "The next day, when I saw
what , I felt utterly disgusted and hopeless." And so, after marriage, we rarely made love. I could always find
excuses like feeling uncomfortable, because I didn't need to consider his feelings at all. As long as the marriage certificate existed, it seemed like
it was a way to appease our respective families.

Taking the first step was difficult, but once you did, looking back, it was just like that—what else could you do? Accepting
reality, the sun still shone brightly, rising early and setting
late

. For a long time, when colleagues asked me about my husband, I would pause for a moment before blurting out, "Oh, you're talking about him?!" Then my colleagues would think I was blinded by happiness, that my joy had come too suddenly. I could only
give them a shy smile to hide my helplessness, while in their eyes, I smiled seductively, radiating
happiness . So be it, who's to blame? But this self-deception was like a hidden bomb; I didn't even know
when it would explode, or even that it existed.

Six months after the marriage, with the mutual assistance of these "relatives," my father-in-law, a provincial leader, also brought my
father As the mastermind and biggest beneficiary of this marriage, the expected reward was a promotion from a division-level cadre to
a deputy mayor in charge of a region.

That evening, my workplace held a celebration for me. I drank a lot of alcohol during dinner,
and then invited colleagues to go out for karaoke and more drinks. I kept toasting with everyone around me, and
my colleagues, who had never seen me like this before, were worried something might happen and said they wanted to go home. When they saw that I didn't want to leave, they could only sit
anxiously in the private room with their bags on their backs. In the end, a male colleague whom I usually regarded as a younger brother offered to take me home, and
only after giving me a few more words of advice did everyone leave.

I wanted more, even though my head was throbbing. I insisted on having more, and this
colleague forcibly helped me out of the private room. I seemed to be rambling incoherently the whole way. I accidentally saw him
blushing awkwardly in front of everyone because of me, and I laughed out loud. When we got to the underground parking lot, because of the
dim , we both tripped and fell heavily.

As he tried to help me up, his hand kept touching sensitive areas of my upper body. For some reason,
I wasn't annoyed at all. Instead, I looked up at him defiantly. From his eyes, I could see that
he was surprised by my reaction. In the end, he still managed to get me into the car with difficulty, and then lay down
on the seat, panting heavily.

I thought to myself, I'm 26 years old this year, and he's a few days younger than me. Surely I'm not completely unattractive to him
? He reached for the car to start, but I wasn't going to give up. Pretending to be drunk, I pretended to grab his hand holding the keys, signaling
him to turn off the engine. The engine kept running, but the car didn't move. After a moment of silence, he said softly, "I'll take you home." Always confident in my appearance, I wanted to yell at him when he said that, but I didn't. I simply moved my head closer to him, my actions clearly indicating my intentions. Finally, after the engine stopped, he lowered his head and began to kiss me. I didn't object and passionately returned his kiss. A moment later, I felt his hand slip inside my shirt, caressing me. My breasts were already swollen and constricted within my bra, waiting to be released, especially my nipples, which were incredibly sensitive and couldn't withstand any stimulation .

Although I was acting recklessly and without restraint under the influence of alcohol, I was still somewhat uneasy and
fearful inside. So I closed my eyes and accepted my male colleague's kisses and caresses. My bra came undone, my
skirt was lifted to my waist, and then pulled down to my half-raised thighs. I didn't refuse
what was about to happen; on the contrary, I felt that I was arousing this man and satisfying some kind of vanity in me.

I gradually lost my self-awareness, and he began his actions. My lower body was penetrated, and only at this moment did I sober up
a little . I suddenly thought of resisting, but my body, which was not under my control, was responding to his every thrust.
Sometimes he thrust very hard, and sometimes he had to adjust his position in the narrow space. Some indescribable psychological
stimulation and sense of revenge made me enjoy the pleasure. I moaned passionately under him.

He suddenly thrust in and out of me hard, and I begged him to be gentle. He probably felt that he was too excited and apologized to me
in a low voice while praising how comfortable I felt down there. Our tongues intertwined from time to time,
and my breasts were also being caressed in his hands, but he soon ejaculated.

I pretended to be asleep. He frantically searched for toilet paper in the car to clean up afterward, even helping me straighten
my clothes and skirt. But it didn't end there. I was taken to a hotel, and after being put on the bed, he started kissing my
earlobes and my entire body. We made love several times that night, I can't remember exactly how many, but my whole body and the sheets were soaked.

The next morning, I woke up to find over thirty missed calls on my phone. Aside from a few friends and colleagues
, almost all of them were from the same group. I realized the absurdity of my actions. Before he even got up, I hurriedly
dressed and left the hotel, constantly regretting and blaming myself, feeling extremely uneasy like a murderer.
I even went to the hospital for a checkup.

But some things, once they happen, are hard to erase. For a while afterward, I
maintained this ambiguous relationship with this colleague. We went wild at his home, in hotels, in the suburbs, and even in his
office . I even felt that I loved him, that I couldn't live without him.

Finally, one day, after we finished, I lay in his arms and told him I wanted to have a child with him. I was so absorbed
in imagining the happiness of being a mother that I didn't notice the change in his expression.

A few days later, he suddenly disappeared. I found out he'd been transferred to the city, all
because I'd been speaking up for him in front of my father.

That day, I felt like I had nothing left. I was so desperate, I even thought about suicide. When I got home, Yibo was cooking in
the kitchen . Looking at the steaming dishes on the table, I realized that this was the warmth I'd always had but ignored—
the feeling of home. Yibo carried the groceries out, saw me, and quickly asked what was wrong.

This kind of concern is common, but I always react with aversion. Today, however, it felt so heartwarming. I
realized I hadn't cherished what I had, selfishly blaming myself for my misfortunes. But
I hadn't really spoken to Yibo properly before; I just exchanged a few polite words. He put down the food, sighed,
and slowly said, "If you're feeling bitter, just cry it out."

I didn't know how to respond. He continued, "Actually, it's my fault. I liked you but didn't consider your
feelings, forcing you into this relationship. You've suffered all these years."

I hadn't expected him to say that. I suddenly looked up at him—the first time I'd
truly Although I still didn't have any strong feelings for him, I no longer disliked him. He probably hadn't seen me
look at him like that before; his face even turned red. This moment brought me a lot of sunshine. I smiled slightly, and my mind
suddenly calmed down.

Thinking back to Yibo, I realized I must be a truly happy woman. He doesn't have
the bad habits of a spoiled brat; he's either at work or at home. He's never complained about my attitude all these years. Every time
I saw his pained expression after I rejected him, I truly didn't understand the meaning of happiness.

The meals I prepared every day, the fruit I kept in the fridge in the summer, the thermal underwear I placed by my pillow in the cold—
I always felt it was all his due, that he owed me something, and that now I was the one who owed him. Suddenly, I desperately
wanted to find that peaceful feeling back, to hold onto this home. But it's too late now; I've made
too many mistakes. I told him everything…

Seeing his shocked expression, I couldn't cry anymore, and I didn't want to be vulnerable anymore. I just wanted to say it all,
and then leave this place, leave him, leave my life. After I finished speaking, I got up to leave. At that moment, Yibo
hugged me from behind. I struggled, but Yibo held me even tighter. I could only let him hold me. He didn't say
a , but just said very gently, "I'm sorry, I caused you pain. Please give me
a chance, let's make it work."

A strange feeling welled up inside me, but I suppressed this wavering feeling and answered against my will,
"I don't deserve your love, and I can't forgive myself."

"No, please let us start over, okay?" Yibo still held me tightly, refusing to let go.

Seeing that I didn't move, Yibo carried me back to the dining table, sat me down in a chair, and started feeding me. I
couldn't hold back anymore and finally cried, sobbing uncontrollably. I felt both pity for myself and pity for this "
stranger" husband in front of me. For the first time, I instinctively placed my head against his chest, burying myself in his arms, feeling his
warmth and heartbeat. I hit him, pinched him, twisted him, and blamed him for being so good to me, for not scolding me. But
now, I really couldn't bear to leave.

After a long time, my emotions gradually stabilized. For the first time, we began to seriously
enjoy our little world together, leaning against the sofa watching a DVD. I rested my head on his shoulder, my hand gently on his
leg. This kind of contact was probably a first in our years of marriage, and I gradually felt
a .

I knew what he wanted, so I stopped pressuring him. Instead, I gently traced circles of my fingers around his leg. Sure enough
, Yibo started kissing my cheeks and ears. Seeing that I didn't object, Yibo's hand slipped inside my breasts. I
almost instinctively tried to stop him, but Yibo's caresses were gentle, slow yet firm, allowing me
to enjoy them . Soon, I felt a fullness in my breasts. Yibo had never experienced these
changes in me before, and seemed somewhat excited and at a loss, unsure whether to caress or rub. He only knew to
move his hand quickly across my breasts.

Meanwhile, my hand on his leg could feel something hard
throbbing . I wanted to laugh; it seemed so funny. Naturally, Yibo's hand began to slide towards my abdomen.
Suddenly, I felt a little embarrassed because I was already wet down there.

Not wanting him to notice my embarrassing state, my hand instinctively tried to block his advances, but he still
succeeded . His fingers slipped through my skin and touched my wet area.

I saw his smug smile, and I suddenly felt incredibly ashamed. I tried to get up to turn off the light, but he grabbed
me and pulled me into his arms. After a brief eye contact, we began a passionate kiss.
His hands, out of control, roughly kneaded my breasts. My nipples were already sensitive, and this caused me some pain, but I
couldn't say anything because his fervent kiss was almost suffocating me.

I collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted. He pressed himself against me without hesitation, unbuttoning my
clothes while kissing me relentlessly. As he reached around my back to unbutton my bra,
I curiously asked him how he was so skilled.

When I suddenly asked him, he could only stammer an explanation that it was very simple. I didn't blame him. Under
his "clumsy" caresses, my body began to heat up, and I couldn't help but leak fluid from below, sticky
and slightly uncomfortable. I wanted him to help me take off my clothes quickly, and thinking of this, my breathing became labored
.

Yibo lowered his head and licked around my nipples with the tip of his tongue, which I enjoyed very much. My swollen
breasts felt like they were covered with nerve cells, and every small movement transmitted a shocking stimulation throughout my body. Yibo finally
started to take off my pants and trousers, and while doing so, he wanted to see my genitals. I quickly said no, and Yibo quickly
took off his own clothes as well.

Although we had done it before, I had never noticed his genitals. It turned out that his pubic hair was unusually thick and dark, very
sexy . One red hair stood up, like a man's first time. He couldn't wait to insert his penis into me, and
the moment he entered me, we both couldn't help but let out an "Ah!"

I felt it deeply, and realized that Yibo's penis filled my lower body. Every movement stimulated
my nerves, sending electric shocks through my body and to my brain. I couldn't handle the stimulation, so I held Yibo tightly,
letting him thrust in and out of me.

Yibo took my nipple into his mouth, gently rubbing it with his teeth. I cried out louder, and it felt like
only my ecstatic moans filled the room. I arched my body, trying to cushion the overwhelming impact of the pleasure. Yibo thrust
into me at varying speeds, sweat soaking both of us. Suddenly, Yibo leaned close to my ear and
said, "Wife, today feels like our first night together." I responded with a shy, inexplicable sound.

He seemed to enjoy hearing my coquettish voice, thrusting deeper and deeper with each stroke, and asked,
"Does it hurt?" Although it didn't hurt, the intense stimulation was almost unbearable. So I
dug my fingers into the skin of his back, frowning and nodding slightly in pain.

This reaction made Yibo lose control. After a spasm, I felt a lot of
warm current flowing into me. Just as I was about to let him withdraw, I suddenly felt his previously limp penis inflate again,
filling my body. I was amazed by Yibo's ability. Once again, I lost consciousness under his body and felt completely exhausted
. This was my first night with my husband after our marriage.

[The End]

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My first night with my husband after marriage

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