Penetration into the cervix -- a trembling memory

In the 1970s, I was assigned to a large steel plant in Wusong. The arduousness and danger of the work, and the terrifying and harsh environment, far exceeded people's imagination. Injuries were common, and deaths occurred every year. On weekdays, I was always worried about whether I would come out of the workshop safely. Back then, there was no mutual choice in work; you did whatever you were told. To avoid
hardship, taking sick leave was the common choice of all young people, and various methods of cheating emerged one after another. Of course, the higher-ups also tried their best to raise the bar for issuing sick leave certificates and closely monitored
the authenticity of illnesses. In those days, being caught cheating meant punishment or even being forced to stand up and be criticized (when criticizing the "four categories of elements"). One day in July, I was on the middle shift. It was scorching
hot outside, and molten steel was flowing in the workshop, which made me feel fearful and terrified. I instinctively went into the infirmary. There were two doctors inside, sitting
back to back . To my left was a male doctor reading a newspaper, and to my right was a female doctor, whose seat was empty. I knew it would be difficult to get a sick leave slip from the male doctor, so I
sat down in the chair next to the female doctor. She took my medical record and asked what was wrong. I said I was dizzy, possibly due to high blood pressure (I had specifically practiced for getting sick leave;
I could hold my breath as high as I wanted, as long as I could see the mercury column on the sphygmomanometer). The doctor bandaged my right arm, inserted a stethoscope, and then inflated it like a balloon. When I
saw the mercury column drop to 160, I started holding my breath forcefully. Perhaps the blood pressure I produced was different from my natural blood pressure, so she re-bandaged the bandage to prepare for the weight.
There was no turning back now; I had already held my breath too high the first time. If I didn't hold my breath the second time, it would be admitting to cheating, and once I admitted to cheating, I would be at their mercy.
Perhaps due to nervousness, my right hand was a bit stiff and not very relaxed. When the female doctor inserted the stethoscope and pulled on my right hand, my hand accidentally bumped into her soft breast
. At that time, I was a young man in my late twenties who had never touched a woman's skin before. My instinctive reaction made me pull my hand back as if I had been electrocuted. The second time, they started inflating
the blood pressure monitor with a rubber bulb. The scary thing was that the doctor moved the position of the monitor, and I couldn't see the mercury column anymore. In a second, my heart started pounding. The terrible
scene seemed to be pressing down on me. Perhaps it was a sudden inspiration, or perhaps it was a desperate, all-or-nothing mentality, but for the first time in my life, I
used the index and middle fingers of my right hand to pinch the female doctor's breast. If you ask me what my motive was, I can swear to God that I only had one motive: to make it more difficult for her
to report . If she wasn't a shrew, and knew shame and didn't report it, I would be grateful that I escaped a disaster. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye and
noticed that a blush had risen on her fair face. The second measurement was inaccurate again. Her voice was slightly off as she said, "Put your hand down properly, I can't get a reading." The third
time I took her measurement, I deliberately pinched her again, staring intently at her face. The moment our eyes met, she looked away. I knew I
had won. Then she said, "You probably haven't rested well. Take some medicine and rest for two days. Come back if you're not better." On the surface, I remained outwardly calm, but inwardly I was
overjoyed. I had escaped a disaster and even gained two precious days of sick leave. Perhaps this would open a door of convenience for me in the future… After returning home, I thought I must find an opportunity
to explain to her in person, so that others wouldn't see me as a pervert. I calculated that the only chance without a third party present was after midnight on the night shift. At that time,
factory workers worked three shifts, while doctors worked four shifts—day, night, and morning. We were like two gears of different sizes, needing to turn many times before our teeth intersected.
Nearly a month later, I finally got to work the same night shift as her. It was late at night, and apart from those still working, most people had crawled into various corners to doze off
. I estimated I wouldn't have any work for about half an hour to forty minutes. I headed towards the familiar infirmary. Pushing open the door, I immediately saw the
female doctor, surnamed Chen, sitting at her large desk, knitting. Underneath her white coat was that same pink short-sleeved shirt, making her look very dignified and beautiful. She merely
glanced at me, without stopping her work or saying a word, as if she hadn't even noticed a living person walk in. I was momentarily speechless;
her expression revealed neither joy nor anger. I awkwardly sat down opposite her. This time we were facing each other at a 180-degree angle; last time, when I took her blood pressure,
it was 90 degrees (we shared a corner of the table). After a three or four-minute silence, she looked up and said something completely unrelated to the medical examination: "Your face,
around your nose, is very dirty." "Really?" I replied, wiping the area she pointed to. Then I turned and went to the sink behind me to wash my face. As I used the soap from the box
beside me to wash my face, she exclaimed again, "Oh, this is stinky soap, don't use it." When I turned to look at her, she went into the small changing room next door and
came out a moment later with a bar of scented soap she used for showering. It seemed to be pink too. After I finished washing my face and dried it with my hands, she
handed me a towel. I took the towel and pretended to be silly, "Is this a towel or your washcloth?" "Haha, how did you expect me to use a washcloth
to wipe your face?" she laughed.
I asked her who the sweater was for, and Dr. Chen told me it was for her daughter. "What? You already have a child? I thought you weren't married!" I
didn't say that to flatter her; a grown man who hasn't been married before might have an inaccurate eye for women, or perhaps Dr. Chen's appearance and figure at the time didn't suggest she had
a child . That night we had a very pleasant and congenial chat. But neither of us mentioned taking blood pressure.
When it was time for our next night shift, I went again, and she gave me two movie tickets for the next day. It was the Romanian film *
The Waves of the Danube* (back then, any film with kissing scenes or the female lead wearing panties was a luxury). My girlfriend and I were invited to see it together. I replied that I didn't have
a girlfriend , and she was surprised and disbelieving: "You're so beautiful and of such high status, it's impossible you
don't have a girlfriend!" "Really, I don't, and I don't want to," I answered very seriously. "Why?" she pressed. After a long silence, I told her, "In this extremely dangerous environment, I have no mind
for settling down. I can't let my girlfriend or wife worry about my life and safety..." In the end, I only took one movie ticket.
The next day, we entered separately. Less than a minute after the lights went out, she squeezed in and sat to my right. After a while, her
left hand first rested on my right knee, then moved up to the middle of my thigh. I wasn't as bold as her; I only used my right hand to stroke the back of her hand. I turned
to her and gently said, "After the show, shall we leave separately? We might run into acquaintances here." She nodded in agreement, lightly pinched my
leg , then withdrew her hand and placed it on the back of my hand, pulling my hand onto her leg. This was the first time in my twenty-six or twenty-seven years that I had touched a woman
's thigh with my hand; it was so mysterious, so voluptuous, separated only by a thin layer of fabric. My heart began to pound, and I couldn't help but tremble slightly.
My reason restrained my impulse, and my hand dared not cross the line. Perhaps feeling guilty, I was always afraid that the audience on either side or behind me would see my indiscretion.
I forced myself to keep my shoulders still, only moving my wrists. Later, the thin fabric of her skirt was removed, and Dr. Chen used it to cover my hands. This was real
skin- contact! I almost lost control. People often talk about "electrification," but is "electrification" really that pleasurable? My hand moved to the middle of her thighs, but
I only touched her private area through her panties. It felt soft and warm. I didn't use my fingers to pry open her panties and enter her most private place or her
body. I knew I could have done that, but I wanted to maintain a gentlemanly image for her. Doing things without offending others will bring me more.
I barely paid attention to what was playing in the movie.
Men and women are like two magnets; if the poles are aligned, they will attract each other, and the closer they get, the faster they move. But if the poles are reversed, they will repel each other. Even if you force them together,
they will bounce back as soon as the force disappears. In the following year or so, although I refused her requests to visit her home and her
parents' home, our hearts connected more deeply, and my understanding of her became more comprehensive. I wasn't intentionally playing hard to get. Faced
with a passionate young woman, I had to eliminate all reservations and take her. I couldn't let my hands get wet and then become unable to resist. Another
reason to alleviate my almost explosive lust was that I already had my first love and we were fully committed. Furthermore, my efforts to escape dangerous and terrifying environments, which I had always considered my ultimate life
goal, were also greatly distracting me.
I must briefly introduce Dr. Chen's background; otherwise, my friends will find her later outrageous behavior incomprehensible. She is
four years older than me and has a five-year-old daughter. Her real name is Chen ####, and I use the homonym Chen Liling. She is about 165cm tall and very slender. Her first love was a
military officer . Due to her family background, she failed the military's political review, but they had already had a sexual relationship. After the relationship ended, Chen Liling became seriously ill. Later, she
caught the eye of a leader in her father's workplace and, through a combination of persuasion and coercion, became his wife. Her husband is a worker, extremely honest, but perhaps not very handsome. (I've never met him, nor have I
seen any photos of him.) According to Chen Liling's recollection, she almost never went shopping or watched movies with her husband. A pure first love is unforgettable, and a sexual first love is even more unforgettable. Moreover,
that young soldier was not only tall and handsome, but also broad-minded. Several male classmates and colleagues visited Chen Liling's home back then.
Whenever the soldier was there, he would warmly welcome them and make way for them. When Chen Liling asked him why he always made way, the soldier always said, "It's inconvenient for you to talk when I'm there."
Her husband, on the other hand, was very thin and always acted furtively. When I asked about our sex life, Chen Liling said angrily, "He doesn't understand
what women need at all, he doesn't respond to a woman's commands at all. I swear to God, intercourse never lasted more than three minutes, and he never knew how to tease or flirt.
He'd suddenly pounce on you like an animal in heat. It wasn't even kissing; he'd just spit all over your face, let out a howl, and roll away, falling asleep like
a dead pig .
" To make a long story short, less than two years after I met Chen Liling, I received the transfer order I'd always dreamed of. After completing all the formalities, Chen Liling and I
... After a long talk, looking into her beautiful eyes, I said sincerely and seriously, "I'm being transferred tomorrow. I hope our relationship can
continue . We can be ordinary friends, or we can be special friends. But I must state that we both need to be rational. We should take it one year at a time
, one day at a time. You must maintain your family, and I must find someone to marry. If we get carried away and really want to be together, we will
face immense pressure from society, family, and everything else. Do you understand?" I had said these things to her many times before. "I understand.
We'll break off our relationship as soon as you get married," Chen Liling solemnly assured me.
Because telephones weren't common at the time, I abandoned phone calls and switched to letters. I devised an extremely safe method of communication. I compiled the month, date, and time
into a six-digit phone number (phone numbers were six digits back then), and then wrote a completely unrelated letter, asking her to do something for me, and asking her to call
me if she could do it. This phone number—the date and time of the invitation—was then transmitted. It wouldn't matter if a third party saw the letter. I gave her my contact information,
and for every six-digit number I wrote down, Chen Liling recited her arrival time almost instantly.
Less than a month after leaving my previous job, I invited Chen Liling to my home for the first time. The letter had been sent a few days earlier, but it was raining heavily that day
. We agreed she would come at 1 p.m. It was 1:05 p.m., then 1:10 p.m., and she still hadn't arrived. I worried she wouldn't come. Suddenly, a familiar, cheerful voice appeared—Chen Liling had arrived, umbrella in hand,
braving the rain. Although half her clothes and shoes were soaked, she still looked beautiful and charming. As soon as I turned to close the door in my room,
before I could even pour her a glass of water, she hugged me tightly and gave me a long, passionate kiss. (Looking back now, that kiss was unprecedented and unparalleled. I
've never kissed like that in my first love, or even at my wedding. I don't think I'll ever have a kiss as passionate and long as that again.) After I told her that no one would disturb us,
Chen Liling immediately stripped off all her clothes and stockings, spread her legs, and lay on my bed with her legs up. This was the first time I had seen Chen Liling naked, and it was
filled lewdness and provocation. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her skin flawless and smooth. Although she had given birth, she had no excess fat or
pregnancy spots. At the time, although I wasn't married, I had already had many sexual experiences; my virginity was given to my first love. In
those sexually closed times, premarital pregnancy was extremely shameful and almost illegal. I used three lines of defense for sex: the safe period,
vaginal suppositories, and condoms. Absolute safety was my principle. How many people suffered back then! I often
broke the condom, probably because my girlfriend's vagina was tight, and I could often thrust continuously for over an hour. Suddenly, I'd find it slipped, and when I pulled it out, I'd
find only the stub of the condom left on my penis. Fortunately, this experience allowed me to distinguish from the color of Chen Liling's vaginal opening that she wasn't a virgin. After I undressed
, Chen Liling got up, grabbed my penis, and took it into her mouth, shoving it down her throat with her head bobbing. When she brushed her hair
behind , her posture and her slender fingers were incredibly beautiful. Then she wanted me to kiss her nipples, which I refused. (I even thought she was taking advantage of me.)
This shows the lack of sexual knowledge among my generation. Even someone like me only knows one action; you know, that's animal instinct. How pathetic is sexual
repression .
When I touched Chen Liling's vulva with my fingers, glistening vaginal fluid covered it, almost dripping. Due to engorgement, the color of her
vulva from purplish to bluish. Looking into Chen Liling's yearning eyes, I penetrated her for the first time. She immediately arched her back and began to respond, making sounds...
An extremely pleasurable and almost uncontrollable moan escaped her lips: "Thrust harder, thrust harder with all your might..." After all, it was a vagina that had given birth; no matter how tightly she squeezed her thighs and raised her buttocks,
it felt slippery and loose to me, but I was indeed thrusting wildly. Faced with such a sexually voracious young woman, I couldn't just brute force it, because I knew that the longer I
held on ejaculation, the longer it would take to achieve a second erection. And I would tire more easily. I wanted to enjoy the physical pleasure of ejaculation, a pleasure
measured in seconds, but even more so, I wanted to enjoy the process of sex, the latter's pleasure measured in hours, and more memorable. So I broke free from her tightly wrapped arms and
began thrusting wildly with my fingers—two, three, four fingers. Then I used my genitals. This repeated for nearly two hours. I was exhausted and drenched in sweat, while she was experiencing
ecstasy . Finally, she said contentedly, "I'd be perfectly happy if my husband were even half as good as you. He treats me this way, and I'd be willing to be his slave at home."
When she left, she insisted I not see her off, worried I'd catch a cold. She gave me a tender farewell kiss.
After breaking up with my first love, I contacted Chen Liling seven or eight times until I got married. Shortly after the wedding, I had a child, and especially after we were allocated a house, my husband and I
were both busy working and taking care of the child, leaving me completely overwhelmed. I told Chen Liling about my predicament. (I
specifically went to see an old friend at my former workplace to explain the situation to her; she told me to treat my wife well, and that we had a long future together.) About three or four years after the wedding, the child was in kindergarten, and
the busiest days were over. People often say that when you're well-fed and clothed, you think of lust; but even in leisure, you can still yearn for romance! My wife was a pure girl, a virtuous wife and mother, but how
could she compare to the alluring Chen Liling in bed? Another important reason I went to see Chen Liling was that pornographic videotapes were already popular at that time. Due to special circumstances, I
knew a restaurant owner who could borrow a large number of top-quality videotapes from her customers (business and tax authorities). However, these were still difficult for ordinary people
to obtain. Watching them truly broadened my horizons; I realized how wonderful sex could be, how deeply feudalistic ideas misled people, and how much of our generation
's understanding was distorted. I carefully arranged everything and reunited with Chen Liling after a long separation. I had
prepared all the collected videotapes, rewinding to the beginning of the most exciting parts. It was early summer, a mild and pleasant day; my wife and children had gone to her parents' home. Chen Liling arrived early at noon. Having not seen each other for a
while , we exchanged pleasantries before getting down to business. I asked her if she wanted to watch some videos first, and she readily agreed. Although she had
a VCR at home and had borrowed similar tapes before, she had never seen anything so clear and stimulating. Especially the parts involving fistjob and sadomasochism; she asked me to play them
repeatedly. She was deeply captivated by the exciting content. "Foreign countries are so great. If I were abroad, I'd definitely become a prostitute," Chen Liling said with a sigh. "You can handle something so
demanding ?" I asked her. "I could definitely handle it. Living a long life is meaningless. What's the point of living as an old woman?
If I were a prostitute, I'd be happy living for ten years. A good life is important, and besides, ten years might not kill me, right?" she
said seriously, then asked me in return. "Do you like being that woman in the video?" I asked her provocatively. "I like them all," she answered without hesitation. She told me she
had already showered before coming. Then she took off her clothes and lay on my bed. This time, I took the initiative to kiss her nipple, as an apology for my previous rejections
. Then we turned around and performed oral sex on each other; this time, we were completely uninhibited. I found a pillowcase and placed it under her buttocks, saying, "I want to put my whole hand
in there, are you scared?" "I'm not scared, but you'd better put something in first, that way it'll be slippery and easier to insert," Chen Liling said. "I
might not be interested after I ejaculate," I told her. She looked at me, shook her head, and said coquettishly, "I really can't do anything with you, do whatever you want!" I went to the refrigerator,
took out an egg, and used the egg white as lubricant. (I learned this from a video.) As I smeared it on Chen Liling's vulva, I said, "How about it, is it too
late for you to surrender now?" "Don't worry, I'd rather die than beg for mercy," Chen Liling said with a slightly contemptuous smile. I spread her thighs apart with my left hand and right foot, and
began to use the four fingers of my right hand to dig and twist, clearing a path for my thumb to enter. I felt that the key was that the vaginal opening was a bit tight, so I tried to shrink my palm a little so that my fingers
couldn't bend and would press against the lower part of the cervix inside. I had no choice but to bend my fingers and slowly use my knuckles to spread and widen Chen Liling's vulva. It might have
hurt a little, so Chen Liling's hands came to help, and she also helped spread her vulva. I felt that when I first started spreading, it was like pulling apart the elastic band of a new pair of shorts
, and the last half centimeter to a centimeter felt like the elastic band had been fully stretched and the fabric had been pulled apart. My right hand finally clenched into a fist and forced it into
Chen Liling 's vulva. We both breathed a sigh of relief and laughed. At first, she was moaning very seductively, although the moaning stopped later. But she
never complained of pain. She really had an amazing sex drive. I asked her, "Does it hurt?" She shook her head and said, "Do you know what I think your fist is?
I think your fist is your big penis, it's swollen and feels good." It was relatively easy to pull my fist out of Chen Liling's vulva, but when I inserted my penis and moved it in and out, I
could clearly feel that her vagina was too big. Since it was still early, we were both feeling unsatisfied, so I asked her, "How about I help you with your urethra?" "Do whatever you want
, use all the torture methods you can," she said excitedly. I took a soft-core electrical wire about a foot long, bent it in half, twisted it into a
braid and tied a knot. One end was rounded, and the knot prevented the other end from falling in. I disinfected the wire with alcohol-soaked cotton, dipped it in egg white, and slowly
inserted it into her urethra. The stimulation was probably too intense; Chen Liling let out a soft "oh" and grabbed my genitals. I inserted the wire
about five or six centimeters and started moving it back and forth.
(Inserting it too deeply could injure the bladder wall; five or six centimeters was enough for urethral stimulation.) Then she actually released my genitals, gripping
the sheets , trembling. I had to stop; after all, this was about seeking thrills and pleasure, not actual torture. "Just beg for mercy, and I'll
go easy on you," I pleaded. "Can I help you with that too?" she said, pulling the wire out of her urethra and offering to insert it into me. But
I couldn't even manage three or four centimeters, let alone any thrusting. It seems women's sexual endurance is far greater than men's. Chen Liling then playfully
said, "No wonder older people say we women have tofu shoulders and iron bellies; an iron belly means an iron belly, do you understand now?" Faced with this slutty
woman I was truly impressed. If she were a prostitute, she'd be a goldmine.
Two weeks later, I arranged for my wife and children to stay at my grandmother's house again. I met Chen Liling again, and this time I noticed she looked better than before. I
had prepared several videotapes. One of them showed scenes of torture and organ puncture, which Chen Liling watched with extreme excitement and rapt attention. We leaned naked against the sofa...
I kept stroking her thighs, abdomen, and breasts. She kept turning her head to kiss me, and I could see that her eyes were different from usual, with a
particularly bright, fiery light. The eyes are the windows to the soul, and through these windows, along with her occasional gestures of parting her legs, I could completely see the
burning desire within her. But I deliberately avoided touching her lower body, and I repeatedly kissed her nipples and her earrings, drawing her attention to the frenzied
sex , coaxing her to talk about her experiences. I wanted to add fuel to the fire of her burning desire. "Yang Bin: I wish I could go on a honeymoon with you. Maybe a honeymoon
is too much to ask for. A week would be enough. I'd let you torture me like crazy, tear off my genitals, and then sew them back up stitch by stitch,"
Chen Liling said to me seriously. "That's too cruel. If I were your husband, I would torture you until you're even more beautiful. I wouldn't let you bleed a drop,
nor would I hurt an inch of your skin. I would stretch your ligaments like a ballerina's, and expand your vagina to the size that Japanese woman can fit four vibrating
sex toys in. (From the video)" I replied to her seriously. The time was right. I turned off the TV and put Chen Liling on the bed. I turned around and pounced
on her, shoving my penis into her mouth. The pleasure was intense, and she arched her head, cooperating perfectly. When I forcefully thrust my penis into her throat
, she started to gag. But her hands still held onto my buttocks and didn't push me away. After a dozen or so thrusts, I turned to look at her and saw tears streaming down her face
. When I touched her vulva, I was surprised by the amount of vaginal lubrication I received. I inserted a few fingers and the slippery secretions easily
coated most of my hand, making her vagina seem very large. My fingers reached her cervix; the cervix of someone who had never given birth
was hard and slippery, like the mouth of a small river fish, while hers was much larger. I told her what it felt like inside and made a gesture of pinching four fingers together and extending my middle finger, saying, "I
want to put this finger into your uterus." "Are your fingers that long?" she asked. I shook my head and said, "I'll put my fist in first
, then slowly insert my finger a little further." She spread her legs wider and said decisively, "Go for it. I'll only experience the feeling of an abortion once." I
began to slowly move my four fingers in and out, while my other hand gently teased her clitoris. Her breathing became heavy, her limbs spread wide, her feet curled up, toes
spread wide. Aside from the rise and fall of her abdomen with each breath, her eyes were half-closed, making her appear as if she were under anesthesia and unconscious. When she raised
her buttocks and let out an uncontrollable moan, my fist was once again thrust into her vagina. This time she opened her eyes and exhaled. My right fist
was completely encased in flesh, my middle finger unable to straighten. I tried to pull out half a fist to straighten my middle finger, but I dragged her along with me. I had to use my feet to brace against her buttocks and slowly, very
slowly, pull out half a fist. This was now the largest part of my fist. Although my hands and her vagina were covered in slippery secretions,
the knuckles of my fist still pulled the flesh inside her vagina inside out. My middle finger finally aligned with her cervix, but only halfway in before it couldn't go any further. Looking at Chen Liling
's feet, the insteps were arched, and her toes were tightly clenched together. I thought that intense sexual stimulation was like strong liquor—the hotter and more fiery, the more wonderful it was for the one you loved. I
suddenly had a whimsical idea and wanted to try anal sex, so I said to Chen Liling, "If you make me pull out my fist again, I can't do it, it's too cruel. Now I'll relax, and you
can raise my fist like you're raising a child." Chen Liling initially believed me and actually tried to pull out her fist twice. While she was pulling, her anus would protrude a little
. When she saw me laughing, she knew I was teasing her and refused to pull out her fist anymore. More than two hours had passed since she arrived, and although her
sex drive was extremely strong, I considered that she still had more than an hour's journey home, so I decided it was about time to finish. (In those days, there were no taxis, only buses.)
When I pulled out her hand, I realized that my hand was covered in blood, especially my middle finger, as if I had just killed an eel. A little scared, I asked her, "Are you alright?" She
wiped herself with toilet paper and said, "It's alright, women are utterly shameless, don't worry." I was too embarrassed to bring up anal sex again, so I held her and ejaculated
inside her vagina. I felt her vagina contracting rhythmically, and she had another orgasm. It took a long time before she let go of me, saying apologetically
, "Yang Bin, I felt so good, are you done? I really can't bite anymore, otherwise I would have bitten you a little longer." "That's enough, that's enough,"
I said, stroking her beautiful embroidered hair. While wiping away my semen, her blood was still flowing, so I gave
her one of my wife's sanitary napkins. She took the napkin and said "Thank you, thank you" several times. My heart ached, and I almost cried. Confucius said, "Food and sex are human nature."
Eating and sex are human nature, the same need. It's cruel to leave someone chronically hungry, but it might be even crueler to subject someone to prolonged sexual torment.
The former can beg for food if he can't steal it. The latter, with its thousands of years of feudal consciousness and today's backward views, is truly a case of "even spit can drown a person." When I saw her off,
she gracefully tossed her hair, regaining her usual charm. Since there was no one in the aisle, I couldn't help but say, "You're so beautiful. No one would guess you've just
been through torture." "You're an executioner, ruthless," she replied happily.
The next day, as soon as I got to work, I immediately called her. I was still worried about her health. She sounded very excited when she answered my call, telling
me everything was fine and I shouldn't worry at all. From her relaxed voice, I guessed she was probably really okay, and I was relieved.
Due to space limitations, I can only continue writing about her other sexual experiences and processes at a later time. My relationship with her
lasted last few times together, I felt that her peak of passion was gradually fading away; age catches up with everyone! I know the laws of nature are irresistible.
We decided to break up after a calm and amicable long talk. We are both incredibly proud of our over ten-year relationship, and we believe this beautiful experience will remain
forever in our minds, until the end of our lives. When we are old and frail, these wonderful memories will keep our hearts young. More than
ten years have passed in the blink of an eye, and today I am writing this without Chen Liling's permission. I hope she can understand. Because I still
cherish everything from those years so much.
Finally, I want to talk about love between husband and wife. I personally believe love can be divided into two types: broad love and narrow love. It's like a couple going
hiking . When they reach the halfway point, one of them can't go on. Broad love will encourage the other to continue climbing to enjoy the boundless scenery at the summit, while the other
waits for them to return. Narrow love, however, won't allow the other to leave; even if I can't go on, you have to sit and keep me company. As for extramarital affairs, I personally believe they can also be divided into rational
and irrational types. It's like eating sugarcane. The rational one eats only the sweetest part in the middle. The irrational one eats the whole sugarcane, skin and roots—what sweetness is left
then ?
[The End]

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