【My Story with Sister Zhao】(14) Author: 52676

Author: 52676
Words: 8259

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(Fourteen)

Night had fallen, and the living room was silent except for the ticking of the second hand of the clock. When the hour and minute
hands coincided at the Roman numeral X, the sound of a key came from behind the door, followed by the sound of the lock turning.

The door was gently pushed open, and a graceful figure walked in, her high heels clicking on the floor.
Flesh-colored pantyhose encased her slender calves, disappearing upwards into her pencil skirt. The woman swayed gracefully in front of the sofa,
slowly lifting one foot and placing it on the coffee table. She took out a pack of cigarettes from her bag, lit it, and then
beckoned to the kneeling figure at the door.

The figure crawled into the doorway, closed it behind him, and continued to crawl towards the woman's feet using his hands and knees.

"Lick," the woman's eyes flickered in the glow of the cigarette butt, her voice alluring yet irresistible.

The man, dressed in a shirt and trousers with a blue tie, his hair meticulously combed, the moonlight and shadows highlighting
his sharply defined features, extended his soft tongue and
began licking the woman's black high heels.

The black surface quickly shone from his tongue, and he gently bit the
heel , cleaning the barely noticeable stains with his lips.

"Not bad," the woman said, her cigarette glowing briefly before dimming again. She exhaled a puff of white smoke. "Upwards,"

he said, releasing the woman's heels. His hands caressed the insteps of her feet, his nose rubbing
against calves. The silky feel of her pantyhose mixed with her faint perfume
intoxicated him. His head unconsciously moved to the hollow behind her knees, a
warm, moist spot from sweat. He greedily inhaled the scent, his tongue tasting her fragrant perspiration.

The woman tickled, wiggling her legs and tugging at the man's hair, gesturing for him to move upwards. She then took off her suit jacket
and tossed it onto the sofa, unbuttoning her red shirt to reveal a black bra that tightly bound her full,
white breasts. The cigarette had burned down to its last flame, which she extinguished at her other foot.

The man continued upwards, slowly probing into the woman's tube skirt. The warm, mature scent of her body
filled his nostrils. He knew the source of the scent, but he wasn't in a hurry. He massaged her
calves with his hands and caressed her thighs with his tongue.

The woman was aroused—this was what she wanted—and slowly rolled up her tube skirt
to allow him to reach her groin further. Suddenly, she remembered something, opened one eye, glanced
around the living room, and spotted the thing in the corner. A smile played on her lips as she closed her eyes, resigned to the man's ministrations.

The scent grew stronger, and the man felt the woman's labia breathing hot air into his ear. But he
didn't want to give up those full and alluring thighs. His mouth moved around the base of the woman's thighs, licking the folds
again and again. The juices from the woman's vulva dripped onto the man's neck, calling out to those soft lips and warm
tongue.

When I left, Sister Zhao deliberately put on the same pantyhose she wore that morning. Since only the part around my mouth was cut open,
making her uncomfortable, she tore off a large piece, exposing her crotch completely to
the air. Seeing the flesh-colored pantyhose squeezing out from between her full thighs, my limp penis became
aroused again. Sister Zhao, with her back to me, put on her pencil skirt, sprayed some perfume to cover the scent, and slipped on
her high heels . The usually capable and mature Director Zhao appeared before me. Of course, no one except me knew
that beneath her formal professional pencil skirt lay such a lewd sight. "Cool and exciting," was Sister Zhao's answer to my question.
Then she smiled mischievously, "Convenient."

My heart skipped a beat; I knew she must have a new trick up her sleeve, and my anticipation for dinner increased.

I drove my H6, with the hostess in to the place she called Little South. Since we had already reserved a private room,
we were led directly there. After Sister Zhao skillfully ordered the food and drinks, the door to our private room was closed.

"How's the ambiance here? Pretty nice, right?" Under the lights, Sister Zhao exuded femininity, her eyes curving into
crescent moons .

"It's nice. Do you come here often?" The private room wasn't large, with two comfortable leather chairs and a
dining table . Some decorations on the walls added an artistic touch. A frosted glass partition separated us from the outside world,
with blinds drawn above it.

"Should we pull them down?" I asked Sister Zhao, pointing to the blinds. She rolled her eyes at me. "Why would you pull them down?
What mischief are you up to now?"

I felt a little embarrassed. Lately, Sister Zhao had been "training" me too much, and I had a conditioned reflex of anticipating something.
It seemed this was just a normal meal.

Sister Zhao and I sat facing each other, chatting about office gossip, as if we were just
colleagues with an ambiguous relationship.

The door opened, and a waiter came in with a tray containing a glass of champagne. "Hello, ma'am, here's your champagne."

"Okay, thank you," Sister Zhao replied politely, glancing at me before suddenly saying, "Sir, would you like
some beer? Please bring another beer glass and a bucket of ice, thank you."

Beer? I was puzzled; I couldn't drink while driving. But looking at Sister Zhao's expression, I
immediately and was overjoyed. "Excuse me, Heineken will do

." "It's alright," the waiter said, putting down the champagne, smiling politely, and leaving.

I looked at Sister Zhao excitedly. She also looked at me with her eyes crinkling, elegantly picked up her glass, raised her chin
, and took a small sip of the golden champagne, leaving a seductive lip print on the glass.

"Don't rush," Sister Zhao said, raising her tall glass and looking at me through the liquid, as if she had already read
my mind. A playful smile played on her lips as she softly said, "Let's eat first. The fish here is delicious."

This restaurant had a great reputation, and it was always packed with customers during mealtimes. I could see people moving back
and forth , but no one could see what was happening in our private room.

The food was served one after another, along with beer and ice. The dishes were indeed delicious, making my mouth water. I wolfed down my food
, and Sister Zhao, seeing how much I enjoyed it, couldn't help but laugh and scold me for my poor table manners, saying I wasn't a gentleman at all.
After the final dish, steamed sole, was served, Sister Zhao asked the waiter to close the door before happily
picking up her chopsticks and starting to eat...

The restaurant's specialties were indeed very delicious, but my mind wasn't on the food itself; instead, I was lost in thought...
I watched as the lady across from me gracefully separated the fish, dipped it in sauce, and put it in her mouth, chewing gently with a satisfied
expression, as adorable as a child. The wide-mouthed glass between us sat
there alone, seemingly watching me.

"Ah, so full," Sister Zhao said, stopping after eating a quarter of the fish. She wiped her
mouth with a napkin and smiled at me. "Were you waiting impatiently?"

"Huh?" I was stunned. Coming to my senses, I blushed. "Not really."

"Is that so?" Sister Zhao picked up the wide-mouthed glass from the table, fiddling with it in her hand. Looking at my face, she mimicked
a waiter's tone and said, "Please wait a little longer, sir. Your champagne will be ready shortly."

I swallowed, my throat still parched…

Sister Zhao took the glass off the table, sat forward, rolled up her skirt, spread her legs, adjusted the
glass , staring at my face, smiled alluringly.

With a soft "sizzle," followed by the gentle gurgling of water, the only sound in the private room was the heavenly melody of Sister Zhao's holy water falling into the glass.
The noise outside seemed to slow down. I could hear myself swallowing.

"Here, freshly brewed champagne," Sister Zhao said with a smile, taking the glass from under the table and placing it in
front . She then wiped her lower body with my napkin, tossed it back, straightened her skirt, and sat down.

Two-thirds of the wide-mouthed glass in front of me was filled with golden holy water, topped with a layer of white
foam more like beer than champagne. The glass carried Sister Zhao's warmth and scent, making my eyes redden, and
I longed to drink it all in one gulp.

"Don't rush," Sister Zhao said coquettishly, stopping me. "Eat the foam first."

I held the glass, swirling the white foam with my tongue. To be honest, it tasted exactly like the white foam from beer
, even a little sweet. No longer burdened by the taste, I eagerly sucked the foam into
my mouth .

Sister Zhao covered her mouth and laughed, her urine giving the man opposite her a great sense of vanity and
satisfaction .

After drinking the foamy liquid, Sister Zhao used tweezers to add ice cubes from the ice bucket to my glass. "It tastes better," she said. I
watched the ice cubes melt quickly in the urine and quickly tasted the original holy water. Whether it was psychological or not,
there was indeed a hint of champagne on my tongue. "Am I really drunk? I still have to drive later," I joked
, watching the ice cubes melt into streaks in the glass, which was slowly cooling in my hand.

"If the traffic police check for drunk driving, just blow hard. I want to see if my urine smells like alcohol,"
Sister Zhao said, rubbing her shoe against my calf. I was aroused by her teasing.

Perhaps the liquid in the glass still had a certain taste, so Sister Zhao got up and opened the door to let the outside air
dilute the smell in the room. People came and went in the restaurant, but no one would have thought that someone was openly
drinking . I swallowed a large gulp of the holy water in the cup, held it in my mouth, closed my eyes, and let the owner's urine
fully interact with my taste buds.

Suddenly, the phone on the table vibrated. Sister Zhao picked it up, her eyes lit up, and she gestured for me to be quiet before
pressing the call button.

"Hello, Mr. Zhang," Sister Zhao's voice was very gentle, but it didn't feel right to me. "

Hmm, training finished, back in Shanghai, eating alone now," Sister Zhao glanced at me.

"Ugh," Sister Zhao laughed, "You get all unserious as soon as you hear you're alone. Your boyfriend isn't around, is he?"

"Hehehe, you only remember me now? You haven't called me in days, what's the point of just sending WeChat messages?"
Sister Zhao's eyes sparkled, as if she were really having a long phone conversation with her lover.

"I saw it, so annoying," Sister Zhao chuckled, "You know, I actually miss it a little."

"No, I just miss it," Sister Zhao pouted, pretending to be angry, while I wondered who "it" was.

"Ugh, not again?" Sister Zhao complained, but her tone was filled with joy.

"I want to try it in your office," Sister Zhao winked at me, gesturing for me to continue drinking.

Watching Sister Zhao flirt with my boss right in front of me, I felt inferior and helpless again.
How wanted to possess Sister Zhao, to stop her from having any more entanglements with other men, even her husband. But I knew
I was just a dispensable admirer in her life, while Sister Zhao possessed all my emotions
and desires; she was my sole worship and support.

I lowered my head and took another big gulp, the liquid in the glass seeming to turn into vinegar,
a sour taste rising in my heart. My goddess was flirting with other men, while I sat across from her drinking her urine.
This stark contrast created a tremendous sense of humiliation, yet it made my lower body stiff.

Sister Zhao chuckled, "Ugh, I'm not saying anything more. You're always taking advantage of me. See you at work tomorrow. Bye." Then she
hung up the phone, placed it on the table, stared at my face, and smiled. My expression must have pleased her.
I understood that she had deliberately taken the opportunity to humiliate me, and I felt a strange sense of relief.

"Seeing you so jealous makes me so wet down there," Sister Zhao leaned closer, lowering her voice and breathing heavily. "I really want to ride on your face
right now and let you give me oral sex."

"Waiter, the bill, please," Sister Zhao called out as I was fantasizing about her words. She leaned back, raised
her voice, and looked completely composed, a far cry from the wanton woman she had been moments before.

"Hello, the total is xxx yuan. Will you be paying by card or cash?"

"By card," Sister Zhao said, taking out her wallet, pulling out a gold card, and handing it to the waiter. The waiter glanced at
the unopened beer bottle on the table and my half-empty glass of "beer," looking puzzled, but said
nothing , took the card, and left.

"Drink it all! Don't waste it. This is something I brewed especially for you with my body," Sister Zhao said, gesturing with her chin to
the glass .

I quickly gulped down the remaining liquid. The cool, holy water flowed down my throat and into my stomach,
making every pore on my body feel open and comfortable.

"Hello ma'am, here's your card. This is the receipt, please sign it. Please keep the slip." The waiter
came in , glancing at me. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

"Here you go." Sister Zhao took the pen, signed her name, and smiled at the waiter. She stood up and
ordered me, "Let's go..."

There

weren't many cars on the road anymore. I was driving, but I couldn't concentrate on the road ahead. Perhaps due to the alcohol
and the effects of flirting, Sister Zhao in the passenger seat was in a state of arousal. One of her legs
was rubbing against my crotch, making all my blood rush to my genitals. Fortunately, it was dark, the road was dark, and there were few cars and pedestrians, so no one could see...
Seeing such a sensual scene, Sister Zhao's eyes were glazed over. Her lips were slightly parted, and one foot slowly rose up, brushing against my
chest and reaching my neck. Her heel rested on my shoulder, and her toe gently probed my right
cheek. The faint scent of sweat emanated from her foot, making me swallow hard.

"Hehe," Sister Zhao chuckled, pressing her foot down lightly against my Adam's apple. "You glutton, hungry again?"

I gripped the steering wheel tightly and nodded, letting Sister Zhao's foot explore my chest and neck, my blue
tie fluttering under her touch.

"Here," Sister Zhao almost lay back in the passenger seat, her left foot near my mouth, her big toe
playfully wriggling inside her flesh-colored stockings. I stared at the solid white line illuminated by the streetlights ahead, opened my mouth, and sucked on Sister Zhao's
big toe, making smacking sounds. Sister Zhao responded with exaggerated moans, then laughed again. I knew
she was slightly drunk.

The air in the car was stuffy, and combined with the effects of alcohol, Sister Zhao quickly fell asleep. I gently lowered her
legs, pulled over, opened the back door, and lifted her out of the passenger seat. I slowly laid this soft
woman down on the back seat. In her sleep, Sister Zhao wrapped her arms around my neck, murmuring something. I leaned closer
to listen and heard only a few words: "Don't leave me."

"Silly boy, how could I leave you?" I said softly. At this moment, Sister Zhao was no longer the high and mighty
mistress, but a gentle yet lonely woman. The woman before me had her eyes slightly closed, her long eyelashes still
trembling , but a smile played on her lips. Perhaps she heard my answer in her dream, mistaking me for her
man. But could that man be me? I pondered wistfully.

I shook my head, dismissing the unrealistic idea. I gently placed Sister Zhao's head down, closed the back door, got
into the driver's seat, took a deep breath, shifted into drive, and drove into the deep blue night... In

the living room on the twenty-second floor, a middle-aged couple listened intently to the sounds from upstairs, their hearts
filled with envy and astonishment. A woman's satisfied moans described the passionate lovemaking taking place upstairs,
but this violent lovemaking seemed endless, pouring a flood of lust into the room. The slightly plump
wife slowly reached her hand towards her husband's genitals.

On the floor above them, however, was a different scene: a man lay naked from the waist down,
his penis erect, his shirt open, revealing his muscular chest. A blue
tie was held slightly by a slender arm, and his head rested on a leather cushion, the back of his head
wedged perfectly into a slot, unable to move.

A black phallus stood erect in his mouth, imposing and imposing. Directly above the man's head was a
toilet seat, its space filled by a full, round buttocks.

The seat was spring-loaded and creaked with each rise and fall of the woman, her labia
rhythmically releasing the black phallus, creating a wet, squelching sound mingled with her overflowing vaginal fluids and her wanton
moans, forming a cacophony of eroticism.

The chair's support allowed the woman to conserve much of her strength, yet she still
slammed her buttocks down hard, maximizing the penetration of the phallus. The intense
fullness of her vagina and uterus brought waves of pleasure; she hadn't experienced such unbridled lovemaking in a long time—if
this could even be called lovemaking.

With each vigorous thrust, streams of white fluid slowly slid down the black phallus,
flowing through the opening into the man's mouth. The man lay quietly beneath the woman's buttocks, swallowing her secretions. He
could feel the force of her vagina pulling the penis out of his mouth. He enveloped
the base of the penis with his lips, also sucking, vying with the woman's vagina for the massive black object. The sticky fluid on the penis
was washed back and forth by the man's lips, making a sizzling sound.

The woman sat down hard again, the head of the dildo hitting the top of her uterus. She let
out a low moan, pulling hard on the tie in her hand. The man's head struggled upwards, pushing the entire penis into the woman 's abdominal cavity. His lips touched her labia. Their bodies completely enveloped the rubber object. The woman tugged
at the tie, as if wanting to keep the penis inside her forever, while the man exerted all his strength, pressing his head between her thighs, rubbing his nose against her anus, bringing her even more stimulation. "Ahhh~" The woman pushed herself up with her legs, standing up abruptly. The air squeezed ," and her vaginal fluids splattered with the force of the thrust, slowly trickling down her thighs. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her rapid breathing. She had just reached the peak of her desire, but her last shred of reason slowed her pace. The night was still long, she thought. Now her breathing had returned to normal, and she slowly turned around, looking at the man's face in the center of the seat. His handsome face was distorted from the intense impact, covered in her vaginal fluids, which reflected a soft sheen in the dim light. His eyes had lost their usual brightness, looking at her with a vacant, bewildered gaze. Most striking was the thick, long penis in his mouth, still proudly erect on his face, which looked like a base for it. The woman was satisfied with the man's expression. She leaned forward, her hips positioned directly above his face. She could even feel the sharp, black, massive penis emanating from his crotch, pointing directly at her opening. She didn't lower her head, but slowly sat down, guided by her senses, knowing the man beneath her would take care of everything… I watched as Sister Zhao slowly sat down facing me, adjusting the penis in her mouth with her tongue and lips, aiming it at her clitoris and sending the massive member inside. Her wet vagina easily swallowed the entire penis, her labia pressing fiercely against my lips. "Uh…" Sister Zhao tilted her head back, spreading her buttocks outwards with her hands to allow more of the penis to enter. She twisted her body from side to side, creating more friction inside, the seat springs creaking . "The second half begins," Sister Zhao finally looked down at me, her eyes filled with provocation and a hint of mockery. I blinked, indicating I was ready. Sister Zhao gripped the back of the chair with both hands and slowly began to stand up. I felt my penis being sucked away from my mouth by her labia again , so I quickly bit the base with my teeth to take back what belonged to me.

Sex began.

"Uh, oh, oh, oh ah," Sister Zhao sat up and down on my face, relentlessly violating it. From my
perspective, all I could see were a pair of white rabbits bouncing on their owner's chest, and Sister Zhao's arms gripping the back of the chair, the flesh
on the inside jiggling with her movements.

"You slut, go up, let Mommy fuck your face properly," Sister Zhao's genitals slapped my face painfully, making
a slapping sound. This standard sex soundtrack made me even more excited. I made "uh-huh" sounds in my throat,
straining my neck and pushing my face upwards forcefully, as if my face had become a man's hips,
pushing .

"Uh, uh, do you like Mommy fucking you like this? You piece of trash." Sister Zhao started to arouse herself, no,
she was arousing us. My penis kept throbbing under Sister Zhao's humiliation. "Fuck you, fuck you, uh ah."
Sister Zhao was running out of words, just repeating simple lewd words, but her lower body kept increasing the force, and the penis in her mouth slowly
pushed towards my throat, and my nose was also pressed sore.

I was being raped by Sister Zhao in this way, lying on the cold floor, my genitals raised high.
Suddenly, felt that dying under Sister Zhao's crotch would be a wonderful thing. Once this thought started, I couldn't
stop. I fantasized that my mistress would keep riding on my mouth until I passed out. She would
continue riding me until she squeezed her entire penis into my throat, suffocating me under her crotch. Only
the glans of her penis was sticking out of my mouth. Sister Zhao, wearing a black leather jacket, stood up and coldly looked at my
corpse. She started urinating on my dead face, like a man urinating into a urinal. After she finished,
she showed a satisfied expression, used the heel of her high heel to forcefully shove the exposed glans into my mouth, hooked the sole
of her shoe around my chin and pulled it up, then left with a cold laugh, letting my corpse rot in the stench of urine. Many years later,
the police found me in my room. By then, I was just a white skeleton, with
a conspicuous black rubber phallus stuck in my jawbone…

“You slut, harder!” Sister Zhao’s labia pressed hard against my mouth, twisting and pulling me
back from that grotesque fantasy. I came to my senses, looking up at her trembling breasts, trying to tilt my head upwards
to meet Sister Zhao’s every thrust…

Sister Zhao’s movements became smaller and smaller, but the frequency increased. I knew she was about to climax. I
moaned softly, quickening the speed of my head movements.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

Then, with a heavy thud, Sister Zhao’s body began to spasm. I could feel her lower body trembling, her thigh
muscles spasming. My goddess had climaxed.

"You filthy dog, open your mouth," Sister Zhao said softly, panting. I obediently released my mouth, and with a "plop,"
the penis inside was pulled out by Sister Zhao's legs. But because Sister Zhao's lower body was weak and slippery at this moment, the penis
slapped against my face with a "smack," its juices smearing all over my left cheek.

Sister Zhao seemed not to have expected this to happen, and didn't say anything. She raised one of her high heels and slowly
stepped on the penis on my face, sliding it wantonly across my face... I gently closed my eyes,
and the other cruel and cold-blooded Sister Zhao from the bizarre fantasy I had just had floated into my mind...

"Not bad this time," Sister Zhao released her foot, letting the black penis slide freely down my face, and placed her foot on my
chest, wiping the love juice on the sole of her foot. The flush from the orgasm had faded. "Go wash up."

"Master..." I lay flat, not moving.

"What's wrong, doggy?" Sister Zhao was in a very relaxed state at this moment, and it was clear that she was a little tired.

"Please use the toilet." My face flushed. Although I had gradually gotten used to Sister Zhao's urine, sitting in the commode chair
was still a novel experience.

"Hehe," the female lead chuckled. "I'd forgotten the original purpose of this chair."

Sister Zhao returned to the seat, her legs propped up on either side of my head, looking down at me. "Sex slave, dog slave, foot
slave, now it's finally the toilet slave's turn. You're truly omnipotent." Her tone was full of mockery.

"Master, as long as you're happy, I'll be any slave... cough cough cough." Before I could finish speaking, Sister Zhao urinated straight into my throat, the unexpected stimulation causing me to cough

violently . At this moment, Sister Zhao stood up, urinating as freely and unrestrainedly as a man. Some urine flowed down her thighs, while most sprayed irregularly onto my face and onto the seat, dripping. I looked up at Sister Zhao, and her eyes reminded me of the other woman I had just fantasized about—the same expression, the same movements. I felt a little dazed, unable to distinguish between reality and illusion… Sister Zhao seemed to have no more desire or energy to discipline me. After urinating on my face, she took a hot bath with my help and then fell into a deep sleep on my bed. I went to the living room and slowly cleaned up the mess on the floor, recalling the scene in the bedroom. “Don’t sleep in the cage; you have to go to work tomorrow. Sleep on the sofa,” Sister Zhao said, still half asleep, gently instructing me. “Wear a collared shirt tomorrow; you can still see a little bit on your neck.” She gently rubbed my neck and gave an embarrassed smile. "It's alright, Sister Zhao, you should rest." "Mm." Sister Zhao lay down, and I helped her cover herself with the sheet. She gently took one of my hands. "Liu Wei, thank ," she said softly, tightening her grip on my hand. "Being with you really makes me feel liberated." She paused , "I'm even a little surprised myself..." Looking at this gentle woman before me, I found it hard to believe that another sadistic female demon resided within her. But it was precisely because of this that the woman before me was so captivating, showering me with sweetness while simultaneously slapping me hard across the face . "I'm willing to serve you for the rest of my life," I said, then realized there was some ambiguity in her words. Sister Zhao smiled slightly. "You look a lot like my husband when he was young. Even this sentence sounds like what he said when he proposed to me." Sister Zhao's smile turned bitter. "I just didn't expect..." Sister Zhao seemed unwilling to recall those past events. She shook her head, looked at me, and said, "My husband would n't mind what happened between you and me." Then she closed her eyes. "I'm tired. I have to get up early tomorrow. You should go to sleep too. Goodnight." "Goodnight..." I finished getting ready, filled the bathtub with hot water, and soaked comfortably in it, slowly relieving the fatigue and aches of the past few days. After brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth, the smell of Sister Zhao left in my mouth slowly disappeared. I looked in the mirror...

Within the child, his face was completely renewed, but deep down he felt an indescribable sense of loss...

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