At the beginning of the exchange

A warm breeze blew from the air conditioner, caressing my half-naked body, making me feel comfortable, yet also stirring up desires for indulgence. In the warm breeze, Fan slowly approached, his eyes filled with excitement, his breath radiating hormones. He took my hand and pulled me to the center of the stage. Now, under the gaze of my husband and others, I would dance a naked "dance" of body and soul with the man before me.

Dancing is a form of social interaction for couples. Unlike regular dances, couples' social dancing often occurs when they are slightly tipsy and nearly naked. The dances are mostly intimate, involving close cheek-to-cheek contact. This lays the foundation for future deeper interactions and the selection of partners.

The "lead dancer" is the term used in couples' social interactions, led by "experienced" couples. Besides dancing, they engage in very intimate interactions to create a lively atmosphere. Especially when there are newlyweds at the gathering, the "atmosphere team" inevitably stirs up and incites them.

My heart raced. Although I danced well, embracing him shirtless in front of everyone still made me uncomfortable. Without the cover of other wives, without other women doing the same to shield my shame, dancing under the spotlight filled me with both shyness and excitement!

The air was thick with ambiguity, brimming with desire. Every part of my body was tense, as if it might burst at any moment. "You're so beautiful tonight," he whispered, embracing me from behind. He gently brushed aside the strands of hair by my ear with his lips, uttering sweet nothings. His warm, moist breath tickled my ear and neck, tickling me, making me feel warm and aroused.

His hands were well-maintained, soft and moist, pressing against my lower abdomen, warm and comforting, making my entire abdomen feel hot. He lifted my small hand, guiding me into a dance pose. His hand on my lower abdomen made my buttocks more shapely, his hand guiding me made my breasts more erect.

I stood gracefully, surveying my surroundings. The men's greedy and admiring gazes, and the women's playful expressions, stirred a surge of excitement within me. I pulled in my stomach, straightened my chest, and lifted my hips, displaying my elegance and poise. My long-term yoga practice and childhood dance training instilled in me a deep confidence in my physique. I told myself, I am the most beautiful. In this moment of women vying for attention, how could I conceal my own fragrance?

The music began, and that large hand led my body into a spin. His hand was strong, his fingers tightly gripping mine, giving me a feeling of being controlled. Instinctively, I moved, swinging my legs and hips, matching his dance moves… The tango music, powerful and resonant, seemed to mirror the pounding of our hearts. The rhythm of the tango, distinct in its strength and weakness, was like the varying depths and tempos of intercourse between a man and a woman. The steps of the tango were clean and crisp; at the moment of collision, it was like thunder and fire; at the moment of parting, it was like waving a sleeve, leaving not a trace. The emotions of the tango were swift and intense, a blend of passion and vengeance. It gives you the ultimate pleasure, and also makes you feel endless shyness.

I danced wildly, my naked body, guided by his large hands, occasionally bumping against him, sparking desire and longing. I danced with abandon, my passionate body, under his lead, striking pose after pose that made the onlookers' hearts flutter: the splits, the back kick, displaying my supple body, my straight long legs, and the alluring slit between my legs beneath my skirt.

The air beneath my skirt was empty; the wind flowed in with each swirling dance, making my lower body feel slightly cool. But my heart grew hotter and hotter. The men's eager, admiring gazes filled me with pride. The lights fell, dappling my face, flickering and swaying, like my thoughts.

In the swirling, interlacing light and shadow, I saw my husband.

He was holding Ting, caressing her breasts, looking at me with an excited yet complex expression. I knew he was enjoying the pleasure of my beauty outshining everyone else.

In the swirling, flickering light, I saw her—

Annie, who had sobbed uncontrollably in her husband's arms after the last party. Now, she nestled in Brother Long's arms, enjoying his caresses. As a newlywed couple in the circle, the newlywed Annie, like me before, wept over the loss of her virginity, only to begin a new cycle of debauchery at the next party.

In the swirling, flickering light, I saw Sister-in-law Long,

her face flushed, her clothes disheveled, sitting on Annie's husband's lap, watching me with a playful expression. She let Annie's husband slip his hand under her naked skirt; she was the lead dancer at the last party!

In the swirling, flickering light, I saw him—

that sunny, handsome young man, sitting in the corner, his eyes filled with eager anticipation. A high tent was pitched between his legs.

From blushing and watching others perform those "live sex shows" in front of everyone, only seen in adult videos, to being taken advantage of in a moment of passion, losing her virginity. Now, I've become a lead dancer in this activity, tempting others to degenerate. The changes in my body and mind over the years have been astonishing.

Every woman has a wild beast sealed within her.

And the more beautiful and dignified a woman is, the stronger that beast is.

The more beautiful and dignified a woman is, the more temptations she faces that try to unleash that seal.

My luck lies in the fact that the one who brought me these irresistible temptations is my husband, whom I deeply love and who loves me deeply.

My misfortune lies in the fact that while God gave me a beautiful face, He also gave me an extremely sensitive constitution.

Although I innocently attribute my downfall to my husband's influence, deep down, I know clearly that what pushed me to this point was not only my husband, but also the desires within my body.

My sexual awareness awakened much earlier than my husband suspected. My reserve regarding sex was merely shyness, not disgust, and I didn't consider sex shameful or dirty. On the contrary, I developed the feeling early on that sex was a beautiful thing.

When I was 6 or 7 years old, our house was demolished, and we lived in temporary housing. The house was small, with only one room and one kitchen. My mother and I slept in the bed, while my father sometimes stayed at his workplace and sometimes slept on the floor at night.

One summer day, my usually strict mother took me out to play. I had a lot of fun. In the evening, my father, who had been away on a business trip, suddenly returned home and brought me a Barbie doll. I was even happier and kept pestering my father to play with me. My mother didn't nag me about my homework and let me run around freely.

However, I was too tired from playing during the day and hadn't taken a nap, so I fell asleep very early. In the middle of the night, I woke up for some reason and found that my mother wasn't beside me. I was on the floor in my father's bed, and I could hear suppressed moans. Although I was still young, I knew that my mother was being affectionate with my father. But my mother's moans were strange, making my heart race. I had a vague feeling that my mother and father were doing something embarrassing. So I didn't dare to make a sound and secretly peeked through the mosquito net.

It was strange that my usually dignified and strict mother was so gentle and obedient at that moment. Later, my mother got up and went to the bathroom, completely naked. Some people say that witnessing their parents having sex as children, believing it was the father abusing the mother, negatively impacts their later sexual frigidity. But not for me, because my parents were clearly enjoying themselves. The next morning, I'd wake up to find my mother smiling, her temper exceptionally good. She wouldn't criticize me for not finishing my homework the day before, patiently letting me catch up.

Later, I gradually realized that whenever my mother didn't let me nap during the day and took me out to play, the next morning she was always smiling, her temper exceptionally good, and she looked especially beautiful. This planted

the seeds of my positive feelings about sex. However, my puberty came relatively late. Coupled with starting school early, I didn't get my first period until my third year of junior high. Because of the pressure of the high school entrance exam and high school coursework, and my mother's strict discipline, my budding adolescent impulses were quickly suppressed by my mother and the heavy burden of my studies.

But as a healthy girl, that hot summer, a romance novel—a domineering CEO type—that I secretly borrowed from my best friend still awakened a belated sexual stirring within me. At the time, I didn't realize, nor could I explain, what kind of stirring it was. Seeing the female lead pinned against the wall and her lips forcefully kissed, he felt a mix of panic and excitement. His legs inexplicably came together, gripping the blanket tightly. A gentle, comfortable sensation washed over him, easing his anxiety.

I nervously continued reading, and when I came across the "erotic" scenes of men and women kissing and embracing, my heart pounded wildly, and that feeling of panic intensified. I felt suffocated and at a loss, and found that lying face down on the bed made me feel a little better, so I changed to reading while lying face down.

The pressure on my budding breasts gave me a certain comfortable feeling. I straightened my legs and squeezed them together tightly, and my buttocks involuntarily clenched, which made my body feel much more comfortable. However, at the time, I didn't realize that the essence of clenching my legs and buttocks was actually clenching my lower body.

Afterwards, I felt very ashamed, and vaguely felt that this feeling was "bad" and "very embarrassing." Fortunately, my classes were very demanding, and I didn't have much energy to have such thoughts. There weren't many books to read that would arouse my desires! Therefore, during puberty, this kind of impulse only occurred occasionally. Sometimes it was triggered by reading books about love, and sometimes by seeing scenes on TV that made my heart race. One way to relieve impulsiveness was by pressing my chest against a pillow while lying face down on the bed, and another was by squeezing my legs together, straddling the blanket between my legs.

These little secrets for relieving tension and impulsiveness existed intermittently from junior high to high school, until the second semester of my senior year when I developed a crush on a guy, and these impulses became more pronounced. I often lay on the bed at night, hugging the blanket or lying face down, my chest feeling numb from the pressure, my legs intertwined, fantasizing about being kissed and hugged by my boyfriend. Actually, at that time, we only had mutual feelings; we hadn't made it official.

My crush is now my husband, and I met him in my senior year of high school. At that time, my physics grades were a bit low, and I planned to take tutoring during winter break, but I slipped on ice and sprained my ankle on the way to tutoring. Since tutoring wasn't effective, I wanted to try a different approach. So, through an introduction, I found a college student who had won a physics competition to tutor me. He was four years older than me and was a junior in college at the time. He taught very well because he was the kind of lazy person who was very good at learning and summarizing experiences. Unlike me, who just blindly studied hard, he was different. Later, as we got to know each other, he would often point to my forehead and say, "Silly girl, all you know is to work hard blindly."

His tutoring was very targeted; he would always identify my weaknesses through tests and then provide targeted reinforcement, making my learning much more efficient. Under his guidance, not only physics, but all my science subjects improved significantly. I also gradually fell in love with him. I can't pinpoint exactly when I fell in love with him, but after my college entrance exam results came out and I achieved a result that surprised me, he received my first kiss, and we started dating.

My mother didn't object to me dating after getting into university, but I was raised with traditional values, and my mother kept a close eye on me, not allowing me to stay out all night. Both of our families were large, and there wasn't a suitable place for us to have an affair. We also didn't want to leave our precious first time in a cheap hotel. Therefore, we only had sex after several years of passionate love. Besides wasting precious youth, it also brought strong side effects.

Because we couldn't cross certain lines, our passionate impulses during our courtship could only be released through kissing. Therefore, we practically perfected kissing, even mastering the most complex French kiss without instruction. Many times, after he took me home or to my dorm, recalling his fervent words and breathtaking kisses, I would toss and turn, unable to sleep. Involuntarily, I would hug my pillow tightly, clench my genitals, and control my vaginal muscles, which would produce pleasurable sensations, even causing spasms of orgasm.

This was a way I slowly discovered to relieve my impulses. When we kissed passionately, the intense urges made me involuntarily clench my legs and buttocks, and when the kiss reached its climax, I discovered that the prolonged clenching of my genitals would trigger vaginal spasms due to some kind of stimulation. These small spasms would give me an extremely pleasurable feeling. My boyfriend, however, thought that my sensitive nature was causing spasms from the kisses.

Because my school and home were in the same city, I often stayed at home, and my boyfriend and I would often have long phone conversations at night. My boyfriend would unrestrainedly express his longing with passionate words, teasing me. I would consciously control the contraction of my lower body in response to his teasing. I discovered that if I intentionally contracted my lower body forcefully, the friction between the inner walls would produce a slight pleasure. If the frequency of contraction increased, and I squeezed tightly at the end, it would produce a larger spasm, and the small twitches of my entire vagina would give me a very comfortable feeling.

I knew this was masturbation, and although I didn't use my hands, I still felt very shy. But I couldn't control myself, especially when I was on the phone with my boyfriend every night, pouring out my heart to him. I simply couldn't control the urge to masturbate. I was embarrassed to directly stimulate my private parts with my hands, so this dry-clamping masturbation method reduced a lot of my psychological burden. So for a long time, I would talk to my boyfriend on the phone every night, listening to his sweet words, touching my breasts, and tightening my lower body until my vaginal spasms and I collapsed, experiencing waves of pleasure before falling asleep. This situation continued until my junior year of college when I flew to the city where my boyfriend was doing his master's degree, and we lived together and had sex. It wasn't

until much later that I realized what changes this habit of clenching my legs had brought to my body. It gave me an unparalleled "female organ," but also brought heavy pressure to my husband. It became the root cause of our later descent into incestuous relationships.

Due to the habit of clenching my legs, my lower body is very tight, and the folds of my vagina are very well-developed.

Of course, one could also say that it's because my lower body is naturally tight that I developed the habit of clenching my legs for pleasure.

According to my husband, who read in a sex medicine magazine, some women with particularly well-developed vaginal folds experience pleasure when they contract their vaginas, because the folds are dense and high, and the folds rub against each other, forming the habit of clenching their legs and vagina. A small number of people even develop mild orgasms due to friction without external force. I am this uncommon type.

This type, which men call a "female organ," put immense pressure on my husband in our daily married life. He had to seek aphrodisiacs to strengthen himself. Ultimately, he fell into the quagmire of incestuous relationships, and I became the object of men's pursuit, unable to extricate myself.

The music softened, the dance steps changed from tango to face-to-face, the soothing music flowing like cheerful water, swirling in the hormone-filled air.

Fan tightened his arms, pulling me into his embrace. I instinctively resisted, pushing him away, maintaining a distance between us.

Although we were very familiar with each other and had already had many intimate encounters, I couldn't lose my composure in front of others.

"You're so beautiful, I can't resist!" he said.

Noticing him staring at my chest, I looked down at it too. My breasts seemed firmer and fuller than ever before, the nipples pointing upwards, curving downwards in an arc, as if proudly bowing to the crowd, or like flower buds about to bloom, gently swaying in the spring breeze with the rhythm of the dance, waiting for the spring rain to fall. His

arms softened under his sweet words, and I, like a girl in love, shyly let him embrace me. The nipples brushing against his chest hair gave me a strange sensation. Unlike a kiss, unlike a caress, it was itchy, yet exhilarating. Fan's lower body was swollen, pressing against my mons pubis through my skirt, rubbing against me, sending a tingling sensation through my lower body.

The lights dimmed, and the audience began to leave the stage, embracing each other and dancing seductive lover's steps.

Slowly swaying to the rhythm, rubbing my body against each other, my tension and shyness eased. I moved closer to Fan. We moved slowly, our eyes meeting, both of us feeling the passion in our eyes.

"They're all jealous of me because they all want to fuck you!" Fan breathed heavily, deliberately blowing into my ear and neck, uttering vulgarities. His hands gently caressed my body, as if my body were piano keys, playing beautiful notes under his touch. Fan knew my sensitive areas. He knew my personality even better, knowing that such vulgarities would excite me even more. My breasts, lower abdomen, genitals, and inner thighs all heated up, a warm current coursing through my body with his teasing. Because I knew that tonight these parts of my body would be subjected to this man's passionate kisses and licks.

His size and stamina were only average, but he possessed a long, captivating tongue; I had been conquered by his oral skills countless times! But what truly won me over was his mind; he was a man whose sensuality ran deep within his soul. He could easily open my heart, leading me on a journey through a lewd spiritual world, from which I could not extricate myself.

So when I was shocked to discover that the man I was video chatting with was the same man who had previously brought me to climax through text and voice, my body trembled uncontrollably. I could only believe that fate truly exists in this world. I tried my best to hide it, but Fan soon found out. Thus, I became his mental prisoner, his inside man in our online relationship.

We opened our hearts to each other, talking about life, emotions, and especially sex. Online sex is purely spiritual; there's no physical contact. Sex is just sex. Even so-called "online sex" is nothing more than two people fantasizing and masturbating with each other online through text, voice, and video. There are no restrictions or burdens like in real life; there's no need to worry about physical discomfort or disease transmission during real love. You can even disregard the limitations of monogamy and fidelity. It's just a sexual fantasy. Besides, Fan and I only talked about sex; we didn't actually have online sex.

But, but, in front of another man, opening your heart to answer his questions, revealing your sexual history, telling him about your sexual preferences, erogenous zones, your feelings about having sex with your husband, and your experience of losing your virginity—how different is this from opening your vagina and letting his penis penetrate you?

I told Fan about my pure, almost pitiful, sexual experiences, and Fan also told me about his sexual history and secrets.

What moved me about Fan was his sincerity. He didn't flaunt his size or boast about his abilities like other men; instead, he honestly told me about the pressure and embarrassment he felt as a middle-aged man. He told me about the jealousy and excitement he felt when he learned about his wife's past sexual history.

Fan is eight years older than his wife, Ting. For the first few years of their marriage, their sex life was harmonious. Ting was young and generous, and Fan was experienced, making their sex life very fulfilling. But when their marriage entered the seven-year itch, the physiological differences caused by age began to show problems. After giving birth, Ting, who was physiologically fully mature like me, entered her prime, with increasingly strong desires! And Fan, over 35 and entering middle age, began to experience a physiological decline. He participated in video interactions and used aphrodisiacs to awaken his passion and improve his abilities. Using aphrodisiacs to make Ting more sensitive and achieve an early orgasm became Fan's reason for participating.

This, however, became the key to unlocking the shackles in my heart. I needed to find a legitimate psychological excuse to comfort myself, so I became more open, teasing Fan to regain his virility, and helping Ting, who had become my friend, achieve satisfaction. This became my reason and excuse for being more open and proactive in responding to Fan's interactions during video chats.

This kind of benevolent, helpful mentality further strengthened the relationship between our two families. It progressed from downloading video chat to real life, developing into sharing a room without exchanging partners, and then into exchanging partners.

"How do you feel about him?" Fan's hand slid down, caressing my buttocks through my skirt. He asked me softly.

"It's alright, but I still don't want to ruin our current situation," I answered cautiously.

"Then learn more about him, he's great." Fan's hand pressed harder, pressing my mons pubis against his genitals.

I'm shorter than Fan, but my lower body is longer, and I was wearing wedge heels, so Fan's genitals were right between my thighs.

He gently patted my buttocks, twisting his hips and rubbing his erection against me. My sensitive mons pubis felt his burgeoning member. I arched my buttocks back, trying to create some distance between myself and that thing, but Fan stubbornly pressed against me again, pressing his swollen member against my erection. The sensation of my sensitive clitoris being pressed made me lose all will to resist. I resignedly half-closed my eyes, hooked my arms around his neck, and gently swayed my hips to the rhythm, feeling his eager tenderness.

Ambiguous scents and sounds flowed around us. Glancing around, I saw that they were also like us, embracing and rubbing against each other. Desire grew rapidly in my body like vines in summer, and I had to stand on tiptoe to suppress the restlessness in my heart.

Suddenly, I recalled a scene from the novel *Roommate Romance*:

"He held his penis with one hand, squatted down slightly, and entered my body, while simultaneously holding my buttocks tightly with his other hand. I instinctively struggled, but how could I break free? That long-lost, familiar yet somewhat strange feeling of fullness made me tighten my legs. As he entered me, I let out a soft 'ah,' and soon after, Xiaoyuan made the same sound." My lower body instantly heated up. The

perfect exchange in my mind was like the "close friendship" in the novel *Roommate Romance*. It stemmed from emotion, was "reasonable," the process was natural and warm, and the result was harmonious and happy. "Love is selfish, and a lover should also be private, belonging to one person, for a lifetime. I yearn for romantic love, unwavering affection, and the steadfast commitment to stay together for life!" But after reading this novel on Fan's recommendation, I also began to doubt whether love can only accommodate two people, whether marriage can only accommodate two people.

Fan's hands pressed harder and harder, his lower body pressed closer and closer, the pleasure from the friction making my legs weak, my whole body almost leaning against him, feeling completely powerless, only able to move mechanically in the dance steps, obeying his instructions.

The music gradually came to an end, Fan held me even tighter, my bare breasts pressed against his chest, swollen and numb from the pressure.

"I can't bear to part with you," he whispered, his lips close to my ear. "I get jealous just thinking about you being held in someone else's arms." "Go away, you're not my husband, why are you jealous?" I laughed and retorted, "I'm your second husband, your second wife," Fan said with a laugh, "Then why do you let others come and torment me..." I whispered in his ear, my tenderness burning, "I truly love you, that's why I let him help me. If I can't satisfy you, that's what I'm doing wrong to you." He said, teasing me with his penis.

"Come on, it's Ting who can't satisfy me, not me, you're great." I said shyly.

"I know, last time you were mostly just comforting me, flattering me," Fan said, somewhat emotionally.

At the last gathering, to comfort Fan, I exaggerated my orgasmic response. Although I felt unsatisfied.

"A man should never be shortchanged by a woman's flattery,"

Fan murmured, "You know, I joined the couples' dating group because Ting pretended to be satisfied to comfort me..."

My heart softened, as if I had found a moral justification for my surrender.

"Give me some time, get to know her better..." I said to Fan, and the music ended. The lights came on, and I broke free from his embrace, moving to the next position. According to the rules of the game, the next dance would be with another man—Brother Long. "

Can I join you at the next gathering?" Brother Long asked me.

I'll discuss it with my husband; I didn't directly refuse.

I knew Brother Long had always coveted me, but my husband used me as an excuse to refuse Sister-in-law Long's invitation.

Chapter Seven: Husband: The four of them

proudly felt the greedy, envious gazes of their husbands. He gently laid his wife flat on the chaise longue.

He lowered his head and kissed her cherry lips deeply, lips that were the last territory on her body that only he could tread.

A wine-red ribbon bound her bright eyes, much like a red veil. Tonight, his wife would become another man's bride!

Looking up at him, at Fan, who was whispering instructions to the winner of the draw, a strange mix of melancholy and anxiety welled up inside her.

In wife-swapping activities, the relationships between husbands are sensitive and delicate. The influence of thousands of years of traditional ethics and morality, the primal instinct of males to monopolize mating rights, and the female consciousness of chastity—all these inevitably make husbands feel awkward and uncomfortable when facing a man having intercourse with their (the other man's) wife. Men subconsciously avoid the most sensitive and vulnerable parts of their hearts, sometimes even feeling instinctive hostility.

Fan and I were exceptions. He was one of the few men I could call a close friend in our couples' dating activities. Many factors contributed to our friendship: Fan's respect, friendliness, and thoughtfulness towards his wife. His wife, Ting, was beautiful, generous, and sexy. But the most important reason was the compatibility and complementarity between our two couples.

Like me, Fan had a young and beautiful wife. And like me, to satisfy his wife's insatiable desires, he ultimately fell into the quagmire of wife-swapping, unable to extricate himself. The same guilt for not being able to satisfy his wife, the same entanglement of gradually sinking deeper, the same pain after being cuckolded—these led Fan and me to understand, respect, and confide in each other, becoming friends.

Fan's wife, Ting, was also beautiful, but completely different from my wife. Perhaps because I was used to my wife's elegant and refined demeanor, Ting's delicate and clever nature, typical of southern girls, felt exceptionally refreshing. This was also one of the factors that led to our long-term relationship and our deepening involvement in wife-swapping. Ting

was eight years younger than Fan and was the most beautiful woman in a top-tier hospital. Fan, on the other hand, was the chief physician at that hospital. Fan, a young, handsome, and wealthy man who had returned from studying abroad, was the ideal bachelor in the eyes of many girls. Ting, who had just graduated from university and been assigned to the hospital, took the initiative. With her outstanding looks, she defeated many competitors and won Fan's heart. This marriage between a 21-year-old beautiful nurse and a 29-year-old doctor who had returned from studying abroad was seen as an enviable match. No one thought the eight-year age difference was inappropriate; on the contrary, they felt that youth was part of the woman's beauty! A strong husband

and a young wife, a handsome man and a beautiful woman—that's what a perfect match is. For the first few years of their marriage, Fan and his wife had a harmonious relationship. Ting was young and generous, and Fan was experienced, so they enjoyed a relatively happy sex life. However, when their marriage entered the seven-year itch, the physiological differences caused by age began to show problems. After giving birth, Ting, at the age of 28 and about to enter her prime, had an increasingly strong libido! Meanwhile, Fan, over 35 and entering middle age, began to experience a decline in his physical abilities.

The pressures of work, his young wife's constant demands, and the fading passion after too much familiarity finally overwhelmed Fan, who was entering middle-aged fatigue. He began to underperform, leaving his tender, lustful wife on her way to orgasm. Although Ting gently and considerately tried to comfort and encourage him, the soft moans of his wife after he ejaculated, the way she writhed until he was out of her reach, and the undisguised lingering pleasure on her face, still made Fan feel incredibly embarrassed and guilty.

To Fan's relief, his proud wife didn't show any displeasure; instead, she became even more considerate and gentle. She reduced her demands and even carefully prepared nourishing meals for him. Whether it was due to rest or the supplements, Fan not only regained his virility but also improved his prowess. He could bring his wife to multiple orgasms each time, making her beg for more.

Life seemed to have returned to its former happy track. Until one night, Fan woke up in the middle of the night and discovered his wife secretly masturbating behind his back. He then realized that his wife Ting's orgasms were faked. Several secret observations made Fan realize that he wasn't actually satisfying his young and beautiful wife. Each time after they were exhausted and fell asleep during intercourse, his wife would resort to masturbation to relieve her unfulfilled sexual desire. Overwhelmed by

intense guilt and immense pressure on his male pride, Fan began seeking medication. As a doctor who had studied abroad, he naturally wouldn't believe in methods like kidney tonics or aphrodisiacs. Fan chose a combination of sildenafil and dapoxetine to help him achieve an erection and delay ejaculation. This choice was undoubtedly scientifically sound, and it quickly restored his hardness and stamina. However, Fan discovered that no matter how well he performed, no matter how sweetly his wife moaned, trembled, or begged for mercy, he couldn't shake the shadow in his heart!

Nursing students are generally a group with relatively open sexual attitudes, and the beautiful Ting was no exception. She had several boyfriends in high school and college, not only having sex with all of them but also living with them for a period of time. Although Ting openly told Fan about her past cohabitation experiences when they were dating, he didn't take it to heart at the time. Times have changed; it's rare for pretty college girls to graduate still virgins. He had long since given up the expectation that his wife would be a virgin, especially since he had his share of female students during his own university years. But when the pressure of not being able to satisfy his wife mounted, Fan's mindset began to change. He became sensitive, uncontrollably probing into his wife's past sexual history, imagining her having sex with her ex-boyfriends, comparing his own sexual prowess to that of his wife's past partners.

Who was his wife fantasizing about that night when she trembled and rubbed her body?

Would she cheat on him because he couldn't satisfy her?

What were her feelings and positions like when she had sex with

her ex-boyfriends? Who was more sexually capable, and who was more unforgettable for her?

These thoughts clung to his mind like a persistent ailment, impossible to shake off.

Fan was astonished to discover that this investigation was like the strongest aphrodisiac, making him incredibly aroused during his fantasies! The lost passion was rediscovered when he imagined how others had sex with his wife, to the point that he could maintain an erection without the aid of sildenafil. Fan then realized that what he had lost wasn't stamina or endurance, but his passion for his wife!

When a husband learns he's not his wife's only man, he inevitably thinks about how she felt when she was having sex with other men. This generates a strange pleasure; perhaps this is what's called cuckoldry?

Fan began to entice Ting to talk about lewd topics during sex, asking her about her past sexual experiences. Ting initially tried to hide her shame and worry, but when she saw her husband's unusual vigor, she let go of her inhibitions and began to actively confess and cooperate, even embellishing the story to tease him. At first, Fan felt a little jealous, but gradually that jealousy was diluted by excitement. A strange stimulation led him to constantly dig into the details of his wife's life, his hands beginning to explore her body… Ting naturally sensed this change. Some details she was originally ashamed to talk about, under Fan's persistent questioning, she recounted the scenes and actions like squeezing toothpaste. As she spoke, coupled with her husband's caresses, she felt her body changing. Excitement and impulse replaced her tension and guilt, taking over her body. "Past history" acted like a special aphrodisiac; from the first time it was uttered, it became unstoppable, stimulating them towards climax after climax. Their marital life became harmonious again. Listening to Ting recount her sexual experiences with her ex-boyfriends gradually became Fan's hobby, a spice in their intercourse.

However, Ting's sexual history was limited, and over time, it began to lose its stimulation. Fan began searching for new sources of sexual desire.

Initially, he simply posted photos of his wife Ting in the self-portrait section of pornographic websites, indulging in fantasies of his wife being violated amidst praise and obscene comments, fueling his own lust. By chance, I met this couple online!

At first, we only video chatted, gradually developing into video sex. As our interactions deepened, the topics naturally expanded beyond sex, and the initial passion faded. We began discussing life and emotions on QQ. It was around this time that I learned about Fan's experiences and state of mind. My wife and Ting got along very well. Besides discussing women's topics like clothing, cosmetics, and childcare, my wife learned about Ting's private matters, even knowing that she couldn't sleep after sex and secretly masturbated, and even used the showerhead to relieve her urges. Being able to openly discuss marital life and sex, we naturally shared similar life philosophies. Video sex became part of our casual conversations, a mutual support mechanism to help each other's husbands increase their interest and help each other achieve satisfaction. Gradually, my wife and I became special friends.

Later, we brought this special online relationship into real life. Initially, we didn't swap partners, but then Fan and Ting were swayed by the partner-swapping concept promoted on a couples' dating website. Under their enticement and guidance, our boundaries lowered, and finally, in the heat of passion, we completed the swap. My wife and I entered the world of couples' dating. "He

who sleeps with another man's wife will have his wife slept with," and although both of us faced our wives being slept with, Fan's mindset was very different from mine. Fan's pleasure comes from the thrill of his wife Ting being played with and conquered by others (including me), while my pleasure mainly comes from the allure and sexiness my wife displays during sex, and the amazement, admiration, praise, and submission that other men (including Fan) show towards her. This makes our two families highly complementary.

Although my wife's sexual performance was initially strained due to her "extra" nature, the experience of using her "extra" nature made me very adept with Ting. This perfectly satisfied Fan's fetish of watching Ting be conquered and manipulated. He often suggested sexual techniques he couldn't achieve himself, which I would then perform. Watching me bring his wife to multiple orgasms with my various techniques gave Fan immense satisfaction and unprecedented excitement. He even regained his virility after a second time. Conquering Ting also satisfied my vanity and desire to show off, making me more confident and allowing me to perform better with my wife.

I also really liked Fan's attitude towards his wife. Perhaps due to his lack of sexual ability, Fan showed his wife a kind of submission and admiration towards a goddess or celestial being. His eyes were filled with amazement, appreciation, and infatuation when he was with her, and his attitude of honor, appreciation, and satisfaction after entering her body. His willingness to play the supporting role and lick the boots, prioritizing his wife's feelings over his own pleasure, made it difficult for me to harbor any resentment towards Fan. On the contrary, I often encouraged my wife's interactions with Fan. If Fan couldn't satisfy my wife alone, I would deliberately go first, switching places when she was nearing orgasm, letting him enjoy the thrill of conquering her. Knowing that a switch would occur near orgasm, my wife's orgasms came quickly and intensely.

Although Fan's abilities were declining, and he couldn't satisfy Ting or my wife alone, he was once a dashing and experienced man. With him joining us, the two of us working together easily satisfied both my wife and Ting. Therefore, although it was called wife-swapping, it was actually more of a cooperative interaction of sexual liberation. The gatherings were never separate; it was always the four of us together.

For a long time, my wife and I, along with Fan and Ting, formed a regular dating group, meeting almost every month to satisfy our wives' pent-up desires and indulge our bodies and minds.

We all respected each other greatly. Although I made Ting cry and scream during sex, I always respected and cherished her, and even more so, respected Fan's feelings, never adopting a humiliating or boastful attitude. Fan also deeply respected his wife, prioritizing her feelings over his own pleasure. He willingly played the supporting role, a "lapdog," a supportive figure who smiled as the flowers bloomed. His kindness was reciprocated by my wife and me. I often let him take the lead when my wife was nearing climax, allowing him to experience the thrill of conquering her. My wife also frequently offered him tenderness and encouragement, even faking an orgasm to satisfy him. I knew about my wife's "affair" with Fan. She often showed him tenderness and encouragement, even faking an orgasm to comfort him. She even secretly told Fan that she was saving her orgasm for him as a reward.

Mutual respect and goodwill extended between us. Our relationship grew increasingly intimate, and our coordination became more seamless. We openly shared our embarrassment and awkwardness when we couldn't satisfy our wives, and the bitterness, pain, and excitement of witnessing our beloved wives moaning under another man for the first time. We sincerely discussed our physical and emotional feelings during sex with each other's wives, revealing every subtle physical and psychological reaction and expression of their wives when they were receiving pleasure. We selflessly shared our experiences and techniques in our married life, revealing our wives' most sensitive areas, their favorite and most feared tricks, and tacitly guiding each other in conquering their wives. We coordinated our positions and actions during parties, concentrating our efforts to conquer one another, using a 1+1>2 approach to send our two thirsty wives to ecstasy. Through alternating attacks, we kept the women floating on air, experiencing repeated orgasms that left them unable to land, making them the weaker sex partners!

Everything seemed so perfect, so addictive. Thus, the two couples, four men and women, uncontroversially formed a family of four. In this family, each husband had two wives, and each wife had two husbands. In this family, men could enjoy the pleasure of threesomes! Wives would experience the pleasure of a threesome. However, all of this recently faced a crisis. Unable to endure the frequent separations and finding it increasingly difficult to satisfy their wives' vigorous sexual desires, these couples took the lead in accepting single men, betraying this "family of four." Not only that, Ting and Fan also want to bring this single man into our family of four, into my wife's world. They want to turn this quadrangle relationship into a pentagon. This puts me in a difficult position.

Should I accept my wife and the single man? My heart is in turmoil.

[The End]

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