Groans came from next door

This is a story that happened during my honeymoon in 2008. We arrived in a tourist city. It was a beautiful, picturesque place. After getting off the train, we excitedly headed straight for the famous scenic spots we had long admired. After a day of sightseeing, it was getting dark. We decided to find a hotel to rest. My wife and I are both working-class, so we couldn't afford high-end hotels. We just wanted a clean, mid-range hotel. It was during the National Day Golden Week, and we searched one hotel after another, but all we got were full.
Just when we were feeling desperate and exhausted, an old man, perhaps noticing we were tourists, approached us and asked if we needed accommodation. This was like a lifeline for us. After receiving a positive response, the old man led us to his so-called hotel.
We followed him through streets and alleys, into a secluded alley, and then, after many twists and turns, we arrived at a private residence. It was a rather old house. The words "Family Hotel" were painted in red on the wall.
As soon as I went in, I regretted it. Each room was like a small matchbox, containing only a double bed and a bedside table. The rooms were separated by plywood partitions. It was dark and gloomy. Seeing my dissatisfaction, the old man immediately introduced the room, saying it was 50 yuan a night, and this was the last available room; all the others were full. There was a shared shower and toilet.
He then went on to say that his place was cheap and convenient for traveling, and that this was
a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But his words had no effect on me. I thought that even if I was poor, I couldn't spend my honeymoon with my wife in a place like this. To my surprise, my wife threw down her luggage and sat on the bed, panting heavily. Yes, she was really tired; she had traveled all night by train and then spent the whole day sightseeing. I suggested to her, "Let's go, see if there are any other hotels?" My wife said coquettishly, "No, I'm too tired, I really can't walk anymore." The old man said from the side, "You should leave. It's peak tourist season now; you won't find a place to stay at this time. This place is already very good. If you leave, you won't find another one." I looked at the dark sky outside; it was already past seven o'clock. So I had no choice but to decide to stay here. The old man and I started haggling. I insisted on thirty yuan a night, while the old man said he'd only budge on ten. Just as we were at an impasse, a young man in his twenties came in with a middle-aged couple. Their faces were similarly weary; they seemed to be tourists like us. The young man, walking towards the couple, said, "I guarantee you'll be satisfied. Sixty yuan a night." Then he went into the room. The old man told the young man that the room was already taken. Then he turned to us and asked if we were sure we wanted to stay. The young man asked how much they were paying, and the old man replied forty.
The young man said that sixty was the agreed price. At this point, my wife interjected, "We've already booked forty-one nights; how can you go back on your word?" The young man looked my young and beautiful wife up and down and said, "Alright, things are all about first come, first served. You can stay." And so we settled in. Ah! I was truly grateful to them at the time. But as I was helping them with the paperwork, I noticed a strange smile on their faces—because we were so tired, my wife and I decided to rest early. So I took my toiletries and went into the bathroom. It was indeed very basic; the bathroom was a small room divided into two sections by plywood, only big enough for one person to shower in at a time.
Just as I was about to close the door, I heard footsteps outside. I looked out and saw a stylishly dressed young woman of about eighteen or nineteen carrying a basin, walking into the next section. The soundproofing of this plywood was terrible; I could hear the girl taking off her clothes, the sound of the faucet being turned on, and even her breathing clearly.
The water was splashing loudly next door. I started to get distracted, imagining the girl showering while I took my own. I began to observe the bathroom more closely and discovered that the plywood was suspended about thirty centimeters off the ground. I immediately became excited. I quietly crouched down and looked into the next section.
To my great disappointment, I could only see the girl's feet, and above that, only her calves. Just as I was feeling annoyed, the sound of water next door stopped, a basin was placed on the floor, and in a flash of white light, a fair, plump, and pert bottom appeared before my eyes. I was so startled that I jumped up, my heart pounding. I calmed myself down, turned the tap on full blast, and bent down. There she was, a girl squatting in the basin washing her bottom. I was overjoyed.
She was facing away from me, her little bottom sticking out, washing her tiny anus with her hand, a small slit extending forward. I was mesmerized, drooling, and my penis hardened. The beautiful sight didn't last long; the girl stood up and emptied the basin. Just when I thought the show was over, I heard her fill another basin with water. I was so excited I almost had a nosebleed.
The girl squatted down again, this time facing me directly, her legs spread wide. Dark, curly pubic hair covered her mons pubis, and her full, white labia majora were slightly parted. She gently splashed water on her vulva. Water droplets flowed slowly down her mons pubis, over her labia majora, into her vulva, and then down her anus. Then, the girl used her fingers to spread her labia majora apart. My gaze followed the water, and a small clitoris, encased in delicate flesh, peeked out from between her labia, below which lay a deep, alluring vagina.
I felt like I'd been shot. Her vagina was so beautiful—white, delicate, and tempting. The girl meticulously cleaned her vulva with her fingers, not missing a single corner. Her fingertips traced patterns on her labia minora, then she spread them as wide as possible, using her fingers to gently irrigate that tempting vagina. My penis swelled, almost out of control. I struggled to breathe, my brain felt oxygen-deprived. The girl lathered up with soap, rubbing vigorously, her vulva fluttering like snowflakes. After the water rinsed away the snowflakes, her genitals appeared even more delicate and lovely. Even from just centimeters away, I could almost smell her fragrance.
Then, as if she had suddenly appeared before me, the beautiful scene vanished instantly. Lost in thought, I hastily finished my shower and returned to the room.
My wife, seeing I was done, happily said, "You're clean." "Mmm," I replied absentmindedly.
"Okay, I'll go shower now, and tonight we'll… hehe," my wife playfully kissed my cheek, and I understood what she was implying.
After my wife left, I sat on the bed, dazed, recalling the scenes in the bathroom.
Suddenly, I wondered what would happen if a man were in the next shower while my wife was showering.
I rushed out of the room and ran to the bathroom. Thankfully, I breathed a sigh of relief; only my wife was inside, the other side was empty. Hearing my voice, my wife asked what I was doing there. I replied, "Just checking if you're done showering." My wife chuckled and said, "Silly boy, I haven't even started undressing yet, why are you in such a hurry? You've come at the right time. I forgot to bring my change of underwear, could you bring me my clean underwear, and then bring your underwear too, I'll wash it for you." I went back to the room, grabbed my wife's bra and panties, and took them into the bathroom. When I came out, I ran into the old man walking towards me, grinning and saying, "Our place is nice, isn't it? I guarantee you'll want to stay longer." Then, with a sly smile, he turned and went into the bathroom next to my wife's.
My head felt like it had been hit hard. Had he caught me peeping at that girl showering? No way!
I thought to myself.
Just then, I heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom; my wife had started showering. Then, I heard the sound of running water coming from the other side, and it was very loud. Was the old man going to spy on my wife? I silently prayed that my wife wouldn't squat down like that girl. I hoped she wouldn't give the old man any opportunity. I desperately wanted to know what my wife was doing, so I bent down and looked through the vent at the bottom of the door.
Things didn't go as planned. My wife was squatting on the floor like the girl, but instead of washing her genitals, she was washing her long hair. I glanced next door, and sure enough, the old man was lying on the floor, drooling, staring at the bathroom next door, just like I had done before. His gaze was fixed on my wife's body.
My wife, perhaps feeling uncomfortable squatting like that, turned around and knelt on the floor facing away from the old man. Because the room was small, and the basin was in front of her, she had to lean back. Her buttocks were pressed against the bottom edge of the plywood. I glanced next door; the old man was truly fortunate, his face only centimeters from my wife's buttocks, his hands making caressing and groping motions.
Then, something even more unacceptable happened: my wife knelt on the floor, her body bent forward, her head resting on the basin, unaware that her raised buttocks were facing a strange man's face, her anus and vagina completely exposed. The old man, lying on the floor, was admiring my wife's body while stroking his penis, his mouth open, his lips and tongue making sucking and licking motions. It was as if he were truly performing oral sex on my wife from behind.
At that moment, my penis, surprisingly, also became erect. The old man, still not satisfied, knelt on the ground, leaning back, staring at his wife's anus and vagina as he thrust his hard penis towards her.
I almost gasped – was he really going to penetrate her? His penis throbbed just centimeters from hers. The light in her room was so bright, while the old man had already turned off his bathroom light; one was in the light, the other in the darkness. His wife was completely unaware of what was happening.
She then lathered her long hair with shampoo, her hair and face covered in foam. I saw her eyes tightly closed, afraid of getting shampoo in them, but she didn't realize this only gave the old lecher an opportunity. He noticed this and reached between her legs, gently stroking her wet pubic hair.
Because she needed to wash her hair to remove the shampoo, the wife tried to lower her body, her legs naturally spreading wide. Unaware that this made her more vulnerable, her head was submerged in the basin, her buttocks continuing to arch backward. Slowly, backward, and further backward.
The old man, kneeling, inching his penis towards his wife's pink vulva. Finally, her buttocks were up to the bottom edge of the plywood, and the old man's penis was erect directly beneath them. He vigorously masturbated without further penetration. Her buttocks trembled up and down with the rhythm of the shampoo, and the old man's penis bounced beneath her vulva. It was as if they were truly having sex from behind.
Seeing this, my penis also became enraged. The old man's penis drew closer and closer to my wife's tender vagina… Because my wife's legs were spread wide, her vagina was slightly open. The old man's dark, glistening glans was only a centimeter away from the cleft of my wife's buttocks—no, it should be said, it was almost touching her vulva. The old man had perfect control; the distance was so close that the glans rubbed against my wife's pubic hair, but didn't touch her vulva. My wife was completely unaware that a man's erect penis was almost penetrating her body. Perhaps with the slightest movement, the penis would penetrate without any hindrance.
I felt a strong urge for that penis to enter my wife's body. The old man's penis grew even longer, thicker, and longer. The glans, moistened by the droplets of moisture flowing from my wife's pubic hair, even seemed to glow. Then the old man released his grip, and his penis suddenly jumped up, bouncing back and forth between my wife's vulva and anus. My wife's buttocks, however, were now raised even higher and spread even wider. At that moment, the tip of his glans gently brushed against his wife's open vulva. The old man's body convulsed, and he quickly covered his penis with his hand, spurting out streams of semen from between his fingers. He then pulled back.
His wife seemed to notice something, glancing back and touching her buttocks. Finding nothing amiss, she continued showering. "My dear wife, you've been played with like this by a stranger, and you're completely unaware," I sighed. The old man then put on his clothes, seemingly satisfied.
I hurriedly hid to the side, and the old man came out, swaying and walking away.
My penis, still throbbing, involuntarily entered the bathroom, stripped naked, and, imitating the old man, brought it closer. Just as I was mimicking the old man's posture, bringing my penis towards my wife's slightly open vulva, my wife, having finished washing her hair, raised her buttocks, which just happened to touch my penis. She let out a gasp. I quickly said, "It's me, don't shout." My wife giggled and said, "I knew it was you. You're so naughty, you started messing around while I was washing my hair." I felt so wronged, thinking to myself, "My wife, you'll never know that the penis that brushed against your vagina wasn't your husband's."
I saw that no one was around, so I went into my wife's bathroom. Seeing my wife's naked body, I couldn't control myself anymore. I grabbed my wife, made her kneel on the floor like she did when she washed her hair, and raised her buttocks high. My penis went straight into her depths with a "plop." My wife twisted her buttocks to dodge, but it was too late. One, two, three, and I ejaculated after only three thrusts. To my shame, it's probably because I spent too much time on forums before marriage, watching porn and masturbating every day. I never thought I would have premature ejaculation after marriage. The most I've ever ejaculated is only seven or eight thrusts.
Because I moved around too much in the bathroom, I knocked off the clothes hook behind the door, and all of my wife's clothes fell to the floor. My wife was angry when she saw this and said, "What am I going to do? My clothes are all dirty! How am I supposed to go out?" I felt helpless, because we only brought underwear on this trip, and planned to buy the rest outside, so my wife had no clean clothes left. I said, "Then you'll have to wash all the clothes first. I'll go back to the room to get my coat, and you can wear that for now. You can wear it again tomorrow when the clothes are dry." I went back to the room to get my coat when the old man walked in.
"Young man, isn't this great? Enjoying the view? Hehe. I've had a great day too. In all my years, this is the first time I've met a beauty like your wife—so beautiful, with such a great figure and such a delicate vagina!" the old man said with a lewd grin.
Hearing this, I was filled with rage and grabbed him, raising my fist.
"Hmph! You'll regret this," the old man's face turned sinister. He threw me an MP4 player and said, "See for yourself." The MP4 player showed a scene of a girl showering—the scene I was spying on. Although the footage of us making love while my wife was showering was blurry, clearly filmed through a pinhole camera, our conversation and facial expressions were crystal clear.
I felt dizzy and slumped onto the bed.
"Young man, I won't make things difficult for you. You saw that girl, I saw your wife, we're even, no one should tell. Besides, didn't you like spying on that girl? Tonight I'll give you an even more exciting show. But, I also need your help, haha, your wife has a great figure. Don't misunderstand, I don't mean anything by it, I just want you to act out a double act, haha, don't worry, I won't treat you unfairly. If you don't agree, hmph, don't blame me for being ruthless." The old man waved the MP4 in his hand.
It turned out this old man had installed a surveillance camera in the bathroom that I hadn't noticed. Everything that happened was recorded perfectly.
If my wife found out I was spying on the girl, my life would be over. No, I absolutely couldn't let my wife know, I thought to myself. "What do you need my help with? Just tell me," I said weakly.
The old man was overjoyed at my answer and whispered a few words in my ear. Hearing this, I frowned, a mix of emotions welling up inside me.
"Alright, I agree, but you have to keep your word and not go too far," I replied through gritted teeth.
"Good brother, let's not delay, let's get started," the old man said, and hurriedly left the room. I, however, felt like my legs were made of lead and couldn't lift them.
The old man quietly slipped into the bathroom. I followed him dejectedly. We crouched down and looked into my wife's bathroom.
I saw that my wife had already finished washing and was drying herself. My previous dejection lifted, and I thought to myself that I had escaped this predicament. The old man saw through my thoughts and lewdly pointed to the clothes in the basin. I realized that the old man had seen everything on the monitor. My wife had no clothes to wear, so she had to wash them, and she could only do so by squatting on the floor. This old man is truly cunning and sly, I cursed inwardly. I saw my wife place the basin in the middle of the bathroom, stand on either side of the basin, squat down, and begin washing her clothes, still completely naked.
The old man immediately became excited upon seeing this and stripped naked. His penis, still limp from ejaculation, hung there. Perhaps squatting there was truly uncomfortable, for his wife quickly knelt on the floor again, just like when she washed her hair. The old man patted me, signaling me to act. Reluctantly, I reached under the partition to stroke my wife's smooth buttocks.
"Hehe, you're being naughty again. When did you arrive without making a sound? Trying to scare me again," my wife laughed.
"Baby, stick your butt up like you do when you wash your hair," I said to my wife with a wry smile, secretly hoping she wouldn't listen to me.
"You're so naughty," my wife replied. As she spoke, she actually turned her buttocks towards me, and I was utterly disappointed.
I weakly stroked my wife's naked body, but she continued washing clothes without any resistance. I prayed in my heart, "My dear wife, don't submit to me, resist!" It was all in vain. The old man lightly patted me, and I was completely desperate; his scheme was about to begin.
I pulled my hand back. Another hand reached out. But it wasn't my hand anymore. The old man seemed extremely excited. His hands trembled as he gently cupped his wife's buttocks. His previously limp penis slowly hardened upon touching her bottom. He gently rubbed and caressed her buttocks,
then slowly lifted them, causing her buttocks to arch. His hands then parted her buttocks, revealing her pink anus. The old man swallowed hard, his fingers sliding towards her clitoris, gently rubbing it.
"Hehe, don't be silly, I still have to do laundry," his wife giggled, wriggling her buttocks. Little did she know that it wasn't her touching her, but the filthy hands of a disgusting old man. Her wriggling didn't break free of the old man's control; instead, it excited him even more. The pressure of his fingers gradually increased, his fingertips slowly penetrating her clitoris.
His wife's anus contracted sensitively, but she didn't resist; instead, she let out another soft giggle.
"It tickles so much, don't touch there." She said, but her buttocks twitched back slightly, and her legs parted a little.
The old man continued to probe his wife's anus with one hand, while his other hand slid forward along her parted legs. He parted her legs to the sides, his palm lightly rubbing her vulva. His wife actually started to wriggle her buttocks in response to his rubbing. His middle finger then mischievously parted her labia majora, teasing her clitoris. His wife's body trembled slightly. Then, the old man cunningly stopped playing with her, slowly withdrawing his fingers. His wife's buttocks arched further, exposing her vulva even more. The old man used his index and ring fingers to part her labia majora, and his middle finger to scrape back and forth between her labia minora and clitoris. His wife's vulva began to become slightly wet.
The old man gave me a lewd smile. I understood his meaning but couldn't refuse.
"Baby, please bend over, okay? Spread your legs wider and pull your butt back a little more." His wife obediently raised her buttocks, her vulva and anus fully exposed to the old man's eyes. Seeing such a beautiful young woman offering him her most precious and delicate sacred place, the old man felt a surge of desire. He forcefully spread his wife's buttocks apart with both hands, pressed his face against hers, and lightly brushed his tongue against her anus. His wife's sensitive and delicate area couldn't withstand such stimulation; her anus suddenly contracted, clamping down on his tongue.
The old man's oral sex technique was indeed excellent; he used his lips to support the edge of her clitoris, and his tongue continued its invasion. At the same time, his fingers traced patterns inside her labia, slowly pausing at the entrance of her vagina. He rhythmically thrust in and out, but didn't penetrate. His tongue slid down from her anus, replacing his fingers in invading her peach blossom cave, while his fingers began attacking her anus again.
Suddenly, the old man lifted his wife's buttocks, parted her genitals with his hands, and her beautiful vulva opened wide, a few drops of clear, lustful fluid gently sliding out from its depths. The old man stared intently into the depths
of her vulva, as if trying to explore it. After admiring the sight for a while, the old man continued his assault. His fingers continued to probe into her anus, half a finger already penetrating deep inside. The old man's lips kissed his wife's lips, one old and smelly, the other young and beautiful. His lips parted her labia, and his tongue immediately entered her vulva, licking and stirring excitedly. His fingers were also swallowed by his wife's high-raised anus, probing and digging inside.
The old man opened his mouth wide, completely enveloping his wife's vulva, playing with it vigorously.
"Husband, it itches so much, don't do this, it hurts so much, waah," his wife slurred. The old man was incredibly excited by his wife's coquettish voice. He pressed his fingers harder, sometimes kissing her passionately with his lips, sometimes swirling her tongue fiercely, and sometimes gently biting her with his teeth.
"Husband, I can't take it anymore," his wife said, but before she could finish, a gush of clear fluid gushed out; she had lost control of her bladder. Caught off guard, the old man was sprayed with urine all over his face.
Seeing the flow of fluid from her vagina, the old man was filled with surprise. He opened his mouth wide and enveloped her vagina, drinking the urine in large gulps. As the flow of urine weakened, his lips moved closer to the urethra, sucking as if he were still thirsty. At this
moment, his penis was also at its most erect. Thick and long, it throbbed violently. The old man's middle finger no longer played with the entrance of her vagina lightly, but instead thrust it in forcefully. After the old man's play, her vagina was already incredibly wet. A gush of vaginal fluid flowed out. His finger instantly disappeared into the darkness. The old man had reached a point of no return, while his wife was panting and desperately twisting her hips.
The old man was thrusting violently into his wife's vagina with one hand, while his other hand gripped his penis and stroked it vigorously. He opened his mouth and licked her anus with his tongue. Seeing this lewd scene, my penis also became erect. The old man and I ejaculated almost simultaneously, our semen spraying onto my wife's body, our semen mixing and covering her thighs, buttocks, and genitals. My wife collapsed limply to the floor, and the old man took the opportunity to slip out of the bathroom.
Filled with self-reproach and guilt, I entered my wife's bathroom. When I knelt down and looked at my wife slumped on the floor, she saw me and rushed over, wrapping her arms around my neck, her disheveled hair pressing against my chest as she playfully teased me.
"You're bullying me! You're so mean!" she said, hitting me with her hands.
"Hehehe, how is it? Do you like it?" I asked with a forced smile. "Hmm, I didn't expect it. You're usually so well-dressed, but you're so mischievous. You've never been like this before. Why are you tormenting me like this today?" My wife looked up and gently pinched my nose with a smile.
Yes! Why didn't I do this before, my wife! Your husband doesn't have that kind of skill.
I suppressed the sting in my heart and asked with feigned pride, "Wasn't I amazing today? Hehe, are you satisfied?" "My husband is the best, he can do it seven times in one night, you're the best! It's a pity..." My wife paused, wiping the semen off her body, and pouted, speaking in a regretful tone.
My wife's expression made me understand what she meant. She was blaming me for not penetrating her. How could she know what had just happened? "Seven times in one night"—that's a huge joke, my wife!
I only did it seven times. Only a pure woman like you, who has never been with other men and hasn't even read porn or read erotic novels, would think that was seven times.
"Did you get your clothes? Do you want me to go back to the room naked?" my wife asked. Only then did I remember what I was supposed to do in the room.
I patted my head. I took off my shirt and handed it to my wife: "Oh, look at my brain, you can wear my shirt." My wife frowned and said, "How embarrassing would it be if someone saw me naked wearing this?" "It's okay, in this world only I have the right to see you naked, no one else has the chance!" I said this while recalling what the old man had done. I really wanted to slap myself.
"Okay then, you go back, I'll wash my clothes and take a shower, otherwise you'll be naughty here again." My wife said with a feigned scolding expression.
I walked out of the bathhouse, thinking about everything that had happened, and really wanted to kill myself. "No, I can't let this go on, I must get all that dirty evidence from that old man and destroy it!" I thought to myself, and then resolutely went to find the old man.
"Haha, young man, you're a good friend! Thanks a lot, brother!" The old man grinned lewdly as he saw me enter his room.
"Now can you give me those things?" I asked, barely containing my anger, my eyes blazing.
"Haha, brother, don't be angry, don't rush, take your time. Since you're so generous, brother, I'll show you something good, hehe..." The old man said, opening a door that looked like a wardrobe and beckoning me inside. It turned out to be a secret room filled with surveillance equipment. Every room, every corner of the small hotel, even the bathroom and toilet, was displayed on dozens of small screens. I never expected such advanced equipment in a place like this. It seemed the old man was pretending to run a hotel; his real purpose was to spy on people.
"My place is pretty good, isn't it? Hehe, I've never let outsiders in here before. Since you're so generous, brother, I'll make an exception this time, hehe." I looked at the men, women, young and old on the screens. How could they have imagined that they had no privacy at all here, that their every move was being monitored?
"Enjoy your time, young man. I'm leaving now, hehe..." The old man patted me, who was lost in thought. Without waiting for my reply, he left and closed the door.
I sat down blankly, my curiosity driving me to observe each room, completely forgetting my purpose for coming here. Most of the tourists had already rested, with only a few rooms still lit. My gaze then fell on one of the screens—wasn't this the girl I had been spying on?
The girl, half-naked in her underwear and bra, was lying on the bed, fiddling with her phone, completely absorbed in the screen. Her smooth skin and pert buttocks aroused my lust again. Then, perhaps tired, she got up, stretched, and put on her slippers.
Just when I thought the scene was about to end, the girl put on her skirt, tore a wad of toilet paper, and left the room. I watched her walk out of the room, down the corridor, and head straight for the toilet. I hurriedly searched for the toilet screen.
The toilet here was still so rudimentary, like a bathroom—a small space divided into two smaller spaces, with a drain running through the middle.
This was supposed to be the toilet. But the old man had installed three cameras in such a small space. The girl had already gone inside, lifted her skirt, pulled down her underwear, and squatted down. Wow, the old man's camera installation was really skillful! I couldn't help but admire him. One camera was directly facing her face, one in front, and one behind. The girl's beautiful face, her pert little bottom, and her delicate little vulva were clearly displayed on the screen.
Although I had already enjoyed these sights in the bathroom, I was still incredibly excited. Through the close-up on the screen, I could see the girl's legs spread apart, her vulva tightly closed. "Whoosh!" A stream of clear urine gushed from her vulva, and then, under the impact of the urine, the tightly closed vulva was forced open, revealing the little red flesh inside. I felt a surge of desire. So this is what it's like for a girl to urinate—so moving and adorable! The stream of urine gradually weakened, and the vulva closed again.
The girl carefully wiped her vulva clean. Then she went back to her room, turned off the lights, and rested. As I was still searching the other rooms to see if there were any other pretty girls, the young man who had just arrived at the hotel staggered in and headed straight for the toilet. What a buzzkill! I looked away from the toilet screen and saw my wife had finished washing the clothes and was putting my shirt on her smooth, delicate body.
She opened the bathroom door, looked around to make sure no one was there, then put the clothes in the basin and carried it out. Just then, the young man suddenly appeared and bumped into my wife.
They both stood there, looking quite embarrassed. The young man probably hadn't expected such a beautiful woman to appear half-naked, as if from nowhere. He stared blankly at my wife.
She was wearing my shirt, completely naked underneath, her breasts high and full, the shirt buttons barely covering them. The shirt just reached her pubic area, and through the gap, one could vaguely see dark pubic hair. Her pert buttocks pushed up the back of the shirt, half of her buttocks exposed. Seeing the young man staring at her, my wife blushed, lowered her head, and hurriedly covered her chest with a basin, heading towards the room. The movement caused the hem of her dress to billow, exposing her fair and alluring pubic mound to the young man's lecherous gaze.
My wife quickened her pace towards the room, the young man following closely behind, staring at her buttocks that peeked out with each sway of her dress. Seeing this, I felt a surge of anxiety, inwardly cursing my wife for letting this young lad take advantage of her. Finally, we reached the door, and I breathed a sigh of relief. At that moment, the young man squatted down, seemingly tying his shoelaces, but his eyes remained fixed on my wife's genitals.
My wife nervously opened the door, went into the room, and quickly closed it. But the moment she opened the door, the young man's eyes swept across the room, noticing I wasn't there. Then he swiftly opened the door to the room next door. What's this guy doing living next door?
As I was fretting, the young man entered the room, pressed his ear against the plywood separating the two rooms. "Damn," I thought, "what soundproofing can plywood possibly provide in this environment? And you're practically eavesdropping?"
My wife entered the room, put down the washbasin, and clutched her chest. She must have been pounding with fear. She let out a long sigh. I felt so sorry for her. It was all my fault. If I hadn't gotten my clothes dirty, my wife wouldn't have been so embarrassed.
I silently berated myself.
My wife composed herself, made the bed, and casually put her toiletries in the bedside table. Then, she noticed several magazines and novels there. She picked them up, glanced at them, and tossed them back onto the bed.
She glanced at her watch, her eyes silently fixed on the ceiling. Her expression told me she was anxiously waiting for me.
Seeing this made me feel even more guilty. I had committed such a grave sin against my wife today, and now I was leaving her alone in the room. Yes! I should go back to my wife, my beloved wife who was humiliated because of my irrational behavior.
Just as I was about to leave the secret room and return to my wife, the young man next door's behavior aroused my suspicion. He was scratching his head, fidgeting, and then nervously pressed against the wall, seemingly up to something. Was he up to no good? I had to find out what he was doing; I couldn't let my wife get hurt again. I decided to stay and observe.
My wife, perhaps growing impatient, called me. On the phone, she complained about why I wasn't in the room. I casually replied that I was shopping for her clothes and would be back late, telling her to go to sleep.
After hanging up, she looked annoyed. She stood up and began to gather the clean clothes from the basin, only to find there was nowhere to dry them. She gently opened the door a crack and then quickly closed it again, seemingly too afraid to leave the room. Reluctantly, she went to the bed, took off her shirt, and began to hang it on the hanger.
Unexpectedly, these actions of hers excited the young man next door. The guy impatiently pulled down his pants, knelt on the bed, and leaned against the wall.
His behavior made me suspect that there might be some cracks or holes in the wall that could see into our room, especially since these plywood walls weren't very airtight. Then he even pulled down his underwear and slowly started stroking his penis.
I finally realized he was spying on my wife through a small hole in the wall. My wife, however, was completely unaware that a man was watching her beautiful naked body and fantasizing.
My wife was kneeling on the bed, making the bed, her buttocks facing the direction of the next room, and the young man's penis suddenly swelled.
Fortunately, my wife turned around and sat against the headboard, which gave me some comfort; at least this way, the young man couldn't see her private parts. Bored, she picked up magazines from the bed and started flipping through them.
When she came across a small booklet, she glanced at it a few times and then, in a panic, threw it aside.
But my eyes never left her. After a moment's hesitation, my wife picked up the booklet again, her expression shy, and began reading it with such focus. I had no idea what kind of book it was.
As she looked at the book, she began to slowly caress her body, her fingertips tracing her neck and gently kneading her breasts.
The young man next door, seeing this, became even more aroused. He stroked his penis with one hand while the other hand lightly rubbed against the wall, as if he were caressing his wife's full breasts. My
wife's expression became somewhat wanton; she squeezed her legs together and rubbed them violently, her nipples hardening and standing erect under the caresses of my fingers.
This struck me as unbelievable. My wife had always been the dignified and pure girl I knew. Why was she like this today? I suddenly remembered that the booklet might be a pornographic publication left behind by previous tourists, something my wife had never encountered before. It was the stimulation in the bathroom today, combined with the effect of the pornographic publication, that had made my wife like this.
The wife's actions greatly aroused the young man next door. He turned on the TV and put in a DVD, immediately filling the room with sounds of male-female intercourse and the moans of a pornographic actress.
He vigorously masturbated, making penetration motions, and began to hum and groan, the sounds gradually increasing in volume. Although indistinct, they were clearly obscene words.
The sounds startled the wife. After listening for a moment while sitting on the bed, she suddenly understood the meaning of the sounds and became somewhat flustered. She covered her ears with her hands, looking distressed, but the sounds seemed to be drawn to her by an invisible force.
The wife was uneasy, perhaps unable to endure the harassment any longer. She got out of bed, hesitated for a moment, put on my shirt, and hurriedly ran to the bathroom. But she didn't notice that the young man next door had followed her.
The wife squatted down in the bathroom, her face, buttocks, and genitals all clearly displayed on the screen. The wife's face flushed with embarrassment, her genitals a mess, covered in secretions, the fluids running down her buttocks and smearing her anus and buttocks. Looking down at her genitals, she felt even more ashamed and took out toilet paper to wipe herself.
Almost simultaneously, the young man crawled into the stall next to his wife's, crouching down to peep at her. The toilets and bathrooms here were probably designed specifically for peeping; the partitions were incredibly high, and the partitions were tattered, riddled with holes and gaps. Fortunately, the wife was facing away from the next stall, but even so, although he couldn't see her genitals, the angle from which he could admire the round, perky buttocks of a beautiful young woman had him completely mesmerized. He stared blankly at his wife's buttocks, drool dripping from his mouth. His penis instantly hardened, and he squatted there, peering through the gap in the partition, frantically masturbating while making noises.
Hearing a strange noise from next door, my wife bent down to look. Because she was bent over, her buttocks naturally protruded, and her anus was directly facing a small hole in the partition. Her high-raised buttocks and shyly open anus—my wife's unintentional allure caused the young man to lose control, ejaculating wildly.
My wife saw all of this, and suddenly saw a huge penis throbbing and ejaculating behind her. I expected my wife to scream and immediately get up and run away, but what happened surprised me greatly. My wife didn't make a sound but quickly raised her face, her expression becoming very flustered. Then, the most unbelievable thing happened. My wife's face was slightly flushed as she lowered her head shyly, looking at the young man's wildly ejaculating penis.
My wife's understanding of the opposite sex's body was limited to mine; she always thought all male genitalia were the same. This guy's penis was indeed huge and long, more than a third longer than mine, about twenty centimeters, and a full circumference thicker. Seeing this made me feel inferior.
This enormous thing was ejaculating wildly from several centimeters behind my wife's buttocks, streams of semen flowing down her bottom. My wife's expression changed from panic and shyness to a hint of surprise.
Looking at my wife's unwavering gaze, I was filled with anger. How could this be? How could my beloved wife do such a thing? I was extremely distressed. To my relief, my wife suddenly realized her mistake, lowered her head, and ran out of the bathroom. Back in the room, she was panting heavily. She collapsed onto the bed, covering her head with a blanket. I think she was filled with shame and remorse.
But when my wife sat up, I realized I was wrong. Her face didn't show any remorse; instead, it showed a mixture of joy and excitement. My wife eagerly picked up the pornographic magazine and began reading, biting her lip.
Just then, the young man next door returned to his room, and the sounds from the pornographic film reached my wife's ears again. My wife became increasingly restless, sometimes reading, sometimes listening intently. She looked anxiously at the walls between the rooms.
I realized that my wife was captivated by the plot of the novel and the sounds of sex in the pornographic film.
Alas! I am a terrible husband. I have never given my wife the pleasure of love. Before our marriage, my wife was so pure, repeatedly refusing my sexual advances, insisting on saving the best moments of her life for our wedding night. But I repeatedly reserved those precious moments for those dozens of gigabytes of pornographic films on my computer. Long-term and excessive masturbation caused premature ejaculation; on our wedding night, when I first saw my wife's body, I ejaculated without penetration. Although I had sex every day for less than a week after our marriage, the longest I ever lasted was only seven thrusts, and I lied to my wife that it was seven times in one night. And today, just a novel and the lewd sounds from next door almost shattered my lie.
Thinking about this, my distress turned to self-loathing, and then to self-reproach. I'm so sorry to my wife; I haven't fulfilled my duties as a husband. I don't know how to go back and face her. But I have to go back now; I can't leave her alone in the room any longer.

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