[Falling in love with a young married woman for a lonely night] [Complete Series]

Six months ago, I bought an 80-square-meter apartment in the city for myself (I don't want to be a mortgage slave, so I'll raise a daughter!). I only go back home on weekends. Coincidentally, a couple lives in the larger apartment downstairs. The woman is my high school classmate, Meng Xiang, the prettiest girl in our class. Eight or nine years have passed, and she's now a married woman, with a captivating figure and mature charm. The first time I saw her in the neighborhood, I was speechless with amazement. Especially when I walked past her, the faint fragrance I caught felt like a delicate ribbon tied to my heart, haunting my dreams.

During our conversation, I learned that her husband was her college classmate, a pharmaceutical salesman who was often away from home for two or three weeks at a time. They got married three years ago, bought a house and a car, both registered in her name. I told her her husband truly loved her, and she just smiled. I've met her husband twice, just exchanged greetings.

I didn't have a good impression of him. I often thought: "The high price of medicine is all because of you and those unscrupulous doctors. You make so much money and are always out running around, not even keeping your beautiful wives by your side. There's something wrong with you..." Then I thought, "It's so damn good to be rich!" This is probably an inherent Chinese resentment towards the rich. Perhaps it was fate, but Meng Xiang's husband did indeed have problems.

On the afternoon of April 30th, because of the May Day holiday, I returned to my neighborhood and met Meng Xiang downstairs. She was unloading things from her car. I joked, "It's so different when things are going well at work. Do you need any help?"

"Sure, I was just wondering about it. You're back just in time. Help me carry this box of fruit." She smoothed a strand of hair beside her eyebrow and smiled.

"Where's your husband? Isn't he home? I haven't seen him in a while."

She hesitated for a moment: "He... he's busy. He's not coming back."

I sensed something was wrong and tactfully changed the subject. She lives on the third floor, not very high, but she had a lot of stuff, and it took her two trips to finish. I was already sweating. In return, she invited me inside. Although we were neighbors and classmates, I had never been to her house before, so I gladly agreed. Once inside, she changed out of her coat, bent down to take off her leather shoes and put on slippers. I could see her delicate white cleavage and pink bra through the neckline of her knitted sweater—a truly alluring sight. Especially striking was the way her tight short skirt outlined her rounded hips, which made my blood pressure suddenly spike.

When she straightened up, I was still in a daze. I don't know if it was because I had bent over, or because she saw my eyes weren't moving—I think it was more the latter. She glanced at me, her face slightly flushed: "Sit wherever you like. I'll wash you an apple."

"Oh," I replied awkwardly, sitting on the long sofa in the living room, involuntarily looking at the beautiful lines of her back.

She brought over a fruit platter and sat on the sofa next to me. Only then did I notice her beautiful legs and feet encased in black stockings, which were like fine fishnets. Her knees were small, making her calves appear high and rounded, tapering down to a slender ankle. Her feet weren't large, probably as long as my arm; I really wanted to pinch them.

She peeled an apple while chatting, asking why I wasn't married yet and if I had a girlfriend. I chimed in, jokingly saying she hadn't given this bookworm a chance. I noticed she deliberately avoided mentioning her husband.

To avoid another awkward situation, I said I wanted to see her room. In the master bedroom, I noticed a nail on the wall above the bed, but no photo was hanging there, only the remnants of a frame. The room seemed unoccupied for a long time. The other bedroom seemed to be Meng Xiang's room. There was a full-body photo of her on the wall. I stopped to examine it closely, pointing to the photo: "This room is best decorated because of her. So beautiful! How come I've never seen you wear this outfit before?"

"It was taken two years ago; both the person and the clothes are worn now," she said sadly.

I looked at her: "Rodin said, 'Every woman's most beautiful time is only two months,' but it seems to me your beauty isn't for two months, but for two years, ten years, and it will continue to be beautiful."

She giggled: "You're good at making girls happy. Tell me, how many girls have you fooled?"

"I'm telling the truth. I'm very awkward and can't express myself in love, otherwise I wouldn't be single anymore. I just speak my mind, there's no need to hide anything." I said seriously.

She looked at me, and my face gradually turned red. I asked myself, "What I just said doesn't sound like my usual self." She seemed to be confirming something: "You've had a crush on me for ten years?"

"I...yes, oh no, that..." Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I reverted to my clumsy self.

"Hehe..." She laughed brightly: "I believe you. You're awkward, but you know how to make girls happy. Eat an apple, people always change, don't they? Let's go back to the living room." She gradually faded her smile and said quietly.
I
sensed something in her words, but I didn't want to ask too much: "Let me wash my hands first." "I didn't find any men's toiletries in the restroom.

Coming out, she looked at my hands and said, 'Why didn't you dry your hands?'

'Oh, there's only one towel, it's for you, I'll just let them air out.'

'It's alright, use it, and you should wash your face too.'

In the restroom, I took the opportunity to deeply inhale Meng Xiang's unique scent on the towel. This scent made every cell in my body sensitive; I could hear my own heart pounding. It was a feeling I'd never experienced before—was it primal desire?

Back on the sofa, I looked at the apple Meng Xiang handed me: 'Peel another one, it's not good for me to eat it all by myself, let me serve you this once too.' As I spoke, I took the fruit knife from her.

'No need, I can't finish one.' She looked at me meaningfully.

Taking the apple, I cut it in half, handed it to her, and said with a smile, 'This way is fine.'"　　Looking at the half-eaten apple, she suddenly burst into tears. This sudden change left me bewildered: "What's wrong? Are you unhappy? Let's not break up, okay?" The thought of a woman crying like this over something as simple as sharing an apple made me finally believe that women are made of water.

"Sharing" an apple? A thought flashed through my mind, perhaps because—I tentatively asked her, "Are you and him…?"

She raised her red eyes and said, "You can tell, we're… getting a divorce. I haven't told anyone."

"What?" I feigned eagerness, secretly pleased: "Why?"

"His job, you know, for business, he provides those kinds of services when clients need them, sometimes he even participates. One night he was arrested by the police.

I remembered I hadn't seen that bastard for two months. A month ago, Meng Xiang was very depressed for two weeks. I took the opportunity to cup her face in my hands, wipe away her tears, and comfort her, saying, 'Since that's the case, he's not worth your love anymore, and he's not worth your sadness. Instead of clinging to the past, you should find someone new. Seeing you sad makes me very sad too.'" Suddenly, Meng Xiang threw herself into my arms and began to sob violently. I held her close, gently patting her shoulders and back, my face pressed against her hair, inhaling its fragrance, feeling the warmth of her breath in my arms. Strangely, my heart was so calm; I wished this feeling could last forever. After a few minutes, her breathing gradually became steady. Was it about to end? My emotions tightened, and I involuntarily tightened my arms around her.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, looking up at me.

"What? My heartbeat?" Her question made me feel as if I had grasped something. "

Yes, it's getting faster and faster." Just as I expected. "

That's because I'm afraid of losing you." I leaned down and kissed her lips, without resistance.

As our lips met, I felt her tears slide down her cheeks to the corners of her lips, lightly licking them with the tip of my tongue. Our tongues touched, and a current surged through us, making us tremble. "I want you to be happy." "I whispered, holding her tightly.

Everything happened so naturally. She asked for a kiss while pushing me against the armrest of the sofa, straddling my waist. My hands kneaded her waist and hips through her clothes, sometimes lightly, sometimes heavily. Feeling a slight pain, she frowned slightly and made a soft moan. We slipped our hands inside each other's clothes, her waist swaying as if seeking greater stimulation. Her smooth skin slid across my hands, and fine beads of sweat appeared on our noses as our breathing became heavy.

We tugged at each other's clothes, unable to distinguish our bodies." I only know that I ripped off her bra clasp, leaving us both in our underwear. She was pinned to the glass coffee table in front of the sofa. I lifted her up, looking at her like a mermaid. Would she turn into sea foam? Would she burst? I swore: I wouldn't let that happen. Seemingly sensing my thoughts, her eyes grew even more fervent. Only

one line of defense remained. What should I do? Suddenly, a line from a movie (Terminator 1) came to mind: Yes, that's it. I bent down and bit... Wearing panties the same color as her bra, I slowly slid them down. A scent mixed with lavender, sweat, sandalwood, or perhaps musk rushed to my brain, almost overwhelming me. My breath brushed against her navel, her lower abdomen, a gentle haven, and I felt her warm breath mingling with her captivating whispers. She slightly raised her hips, responding to my movements, her pubic hair glistening with dew. I suppressed my desire until I had pulled down her panties, held them to my nose in front of her, deeply inhaling her scent, and kissed her again… feeling… Her eagerness finally brought us together.

Worried the coffee table couldn't support our weight, I knelt beside it, my hands supporting her hips, adjusting the angle as I moved in and out.

Her hair was spread across the table, her eyes slightly closed, her face flushed, radiating shyness. Her chest rose and fell with her breath, her right hand gripping the edge of the table, her left hand grasping my right arm. She arched her back slightly, swaying gently in rhythm with me, like a blooming daffodil swaying in the wind. My left hand sometimes kneaded her breasts, sometimes glided across her groin, sometimes teased her pubic hair.

"Ah...no...let's go to bed...ah..." she gasped, utterly helpless.

This position was too exhausting, so I lowered my head and let her arms climb onto my neck, lifting her delicate body. I didn't do as she wished, but instead sat back on the sofa. We embraced face to face, our lips and tongues entwined until we couldn't breathe before parting. She seemed to have shed her earlier shyness and became more proactive, swaying her hips, her breasts rippling with strange waves. My right hand cupped her breast, my thumb and forefinger pinching her nipple, while my mouth held the other, licking and rubbing it with my tongue and upper teeth. My left hand squeezed her buttocks hard. Under the quadruple stimulation, she bit her lower lip tightly, tilted her head back, her body flushed, and scratched at my back with her fingers, feeling wave after wave of stimulation, suppressing "mmm" sounds from her nose... Finally, unable to hold on any longer, she placed her hands on my shoulders, opened her mouth, and let out a long, trembling "Ah..." as she reached her climax. I felt her nails digging deeply into my muscles, and I couldn't help but respond with a soft "Uh..." in response.

The passion subsided, but the desire intensified.

Stroking her hair and skin as she lay on my chest, I knew the show was about to continue. The slow rhythm and the rapid beats complemented each other in the constant friction and collision, from the coffee table to the sofa, then to the bed, the dressing table, I tirelessly carried her back and forth, not knowing where the strength came from. Sweat mingled, and the scratches on my back, soaked with sweat, throbbed with pain, forcing me to shift my attention and become even more vigorous, only to receive a sweeter pain in return. Sweat made her body even more slippery, and her senses more acute. Even a gentle touch on her breasts and ribs could elicit a seductive moan from her.

Half an hour later, as I ejaculated into Meng Xiang's body with a series of rapid thrusts, she, already experiencing several orgasms, could only gasp softly. I lay on my side beside her, gently stroking her wet hair and back with one hand, and lightly pinching her nipple with the other, adjusting my breathing.

Suddenly, she sobbed again: "Hold me tight."

I pulled her tightly into my arms, and looking at her, my love surged. Before I could say "I love you!", Meng Xiang blinked at me and said, "How many days has it been since you showered?" "Two days," I answered truthfully, bewildered.

"You're filthy. You need to shower next time. But I like your scent." Her little tongue licked my chest, and she smiled mischievously.

My heart fluttered, and I held her even tighter, watching her drift off to sleep with a smile on her lips.

[End]

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(This post was edited by jyron on 2015-08-28 23:39)
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[Falling in love with a young married woman for a lonely night] [Complete Series]

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