Ex-wife's one-night stand

My ex-wife, whom I had a one-night stand with
, took off her clothes and lay naked in front of me, her eyes closed. I climbed on top of her, my hands caressing her breasts—fair and firm, with slightly large nipples. I took her right nipple into my mouth, licking it back and forth with my tongue. Under my ministrations, the nipple hardened. She let out a soft moan. Her eyes remained closed, and I looked at her face. It was still a familiar face, with faint freckles; I didn't notice anything different from before. I gently penetrated her. Her vagina wasn't as tight as it had been many years ago, when I often felt as if a small fist was gripping my penis. I thrust in and out, my hands roaming over her body, from her waist to her breasts, then slowly moving upwards. I gently slapped her a few times with my fingers, then put them in her mouth. She took my fingers in her mouth, sucking hard. Soon, I reached orgasm, unable to control the overwhelming urge from deep within my bladder, and ejaculated into her vagina. She opened her eyes and asked me if I acted convincingly.
This was the night before we broke up. Afterwards, she left me, saying she no longer loved me. It was winter sometime in a year when the weather hadn't turned cold yet. I packed my backpack, took my sleeping bag, and wandered the western regions for over a month.
During my journey, I cried, cried alone in great pain. Once, I was almost drunk, staggering alone in the evening wind, crying and wailing. I had lost my love. More than a month later, I finally returned home unharmed. I faced an empty house, with only my few pieces of broken furniture remaining. It was a very difficult time. Sometimes I wouldn't get out of bed all day, drinking in bed. Fortunately, I think my journey as a wanderer healed my soul, and I didn't fall into the abyss for too long. In my pain, I began to pack my things, because I was also preparing to leave this home. Quite by chance, I found the letters she had written to me in the past, many letters, and postcards. In our younger days, she loved me deeply. I felt every word she wrote to me, and many almost forgotten moments from years ago resurfaced before my eyes, as if it all happened yesterday. When she loved me most, I didn't hold her hand tightly, didn't place my love and my entire life in her grasp. It was I who let that love slip through my fingers, and when it was washed away without a trace by the stream of time, I still hadn't woken up to grasp it, even if all I grasped was a fleeting glance. I once watched a comedy and took a famous line from it as a joke. Today, seeing this line again, I feel the same way as the characters in the film. Later, I wrote this line in my last letter to her: "Once, a sincere love was placed before me, but I didn't cherish it. Only when love was gone did I regret it deeply.
If heaven gave me another chance, I would tell that girl, 'I love you.' If I had to put a time limit on this love, I would say it would be ten thousand years."
Several more months passed, and the wounds in my heart were slowly healing. Then one day, when I thought of her, my heart no longer stirred. I knew she had completely left my heart. After she moved, she didn't live far from my city. One Friday, I drove to her city on business. By the time I finished and left the client's office, it was already past four in the afternoon. I
felt a little hungry, so I slowly drove around the old town, looking for something to eat. That's when I saw her walking down the street, seemingly just off work, carrying a bag. I rarely observed her closely from behind, but now, looking at her back, at her prominent buttocks, I suddenly felt a strange urge. I wanted to embrace her, put her on the bed, and enter her body again. So I drove up to her and called out to her. She seemed surprised to see me, but quickly calmed down. We exchanged a few pleasantries and asked about each other's current situations. I noticed her hairstyle had changed; it's said that women change their hairstyles after ending a relationship. I secretly considered how to appropriately make my request. I suggested to her that it was lunchtime and there was a pizza place nearby, so why don't we go sit down and grab something to eat? I expected her to refuse, so I didn't have high hopes, but to my surprise, she agreed to come with me.
We ordered two pizzas, one sweet Hawaiian and the other topped with Italian salami, and two beers. After a few beers, we gradually became a little tipsy and started talking more. Although we had broken up, our conversation now felt more casual because neither of us needed to shoulder any emotional burdens for the other anymore. We talked about work, our plans, all sorts of topics, and even our friends' recent situations and gossip. During the conversation, I would occasionally touch her shoulder and the back of her hand, intentionally or unintentionally, to show agreement and appreciation for her views. Actually, I wanted to use this simple body language to see how she felt about physical contact with me. I didn't sense any rejection from her; on the contrary, I felt that beneath her seemingly emotionless gaze lay the same feeling I had: although we no longer loved each other, we wanted to possess each other at that moment. After dinner, I tentatively suggested we go to my place for coffee. I said I didn't have to work tomorrow, and we could listen to music. She hesitated for a moment, then checked her phone for the time. I said it was still early, and I could drive her back later. She nodded and got into my car. As I drove onto the highway, I wished time could stand still, because this moment might never come again. I tried to keep my speed within the speed limit, even though the highway was empty. In the dim light, I could only see the newly painted yellow median stripe stretching into the distance, and the swaying plane trees on either side of the road, quickly disappearing past the side window. We were both silent the whole way. To be honest, my mind was blank; I couldn't remember anything. I could only hear the radio playing an album by the Spanish folk singer Silvio. I don't know how to describe that moment, because when I recalled that night later, it all felt like an illusion, as if that night never actually happened in my memory, but rather a dream I created myself. It was as if I never met her again, never held her waist and placed her on the bed, licking her from toe to toe all the way to her beautiful forehead.
After we entered the house, I opened a bottle of Port wine, took out two stemmed wine glasses, filled one for her, and handed it to her, then poured myself a full glass as well. Afterward, I rummaged through the pile of records on the floor, found an old Algren compilation album, put it in the record player, and soon the vibrant blues rhythms of classic 1970s soul songs filled the room. So I dimmed the lights and lit a vanilla candle. The Port wine was very fragrant, and after a few glasses, I felt a little tipsy. At this moment, she came out of the bathroom, didn't go straight back to the sofa, but picked up her wine glass from the table, stood in front of the bookshelf, and looked at the books on my shelf. For a moment, I sensed she was no longer wary of me, and I felt my chance had come. I put down my wine glass on the coffee table, got up, and went behind her, embracing her. She struggled slightly, but I held her tightly, and she didn't pull away. I took the opportunity to kiss the back of her neck, because I knew it was her sensitive area. Her fingers were stroking my arm. I turned her around and kissed her cheek. I felt my lips touching an incredibly soft surface, with a faint fragrance. Suddenly, I moved down and kissed her lips, sucking her tongue in with my own, then slipping my tongue into her mouth for a French kiss.
My hands rested on her buttocks, kneading and caressing them; the sensation of touching those rounded protrusions was so wonderful. I placed her on the edge of the bed and took off her sweater. I knelt before her feet and removed her shoes. I lifted her stockinged feet and held them to my face. They were the most beautiful feet I had ever seen; her five toes and soles were exquisitely shaped. I pressed my nose against the spaces between her toes, deeply inhaling all the scents; the slight odor of the stockings and her feet sent shivers down my spine. I tore open her stockings and took each of her toes into my mouth, licking them meticulously, even savoring the grime between them. I continued until her soles and toes were covered in my saliva, and I could taste nothing more. She seemed to enjoy it, letting me lick her feet. Just as I was about to remove her panties and lick her already slightly wet vulva, she pulled me closer and offered to give me oral sex. I pulled down my pants, revealing my already throbbing, red penis, and stood barefoot on the ground. She looked into my eyes, her expression filled with desire. She slowly knelt down at my feet and took my penis into her mouth. She moved her mouth back and forth, occasionally turning her head from side to side, giving my penis even greater stimulation. I felt great, and used my right hand to hold her head down, intensifying the thrusting of her mouth against the base of my penis. After a few times, I said, "Let's do something more exciting—oral sex." I then placed her on the bed, face up, with her head hanging naturally off the edge. I slightly bent my legs and slowly inserted my penis into her mouth, then tried to push it as deep as possible into her throat. I then commanded her to hold my penis in her mouth while I thrust in and out. This method of oral sex allows for the deepest penetration into the throat, giving a man an intense, almost ecstatic feeling.
After about 10 minutes of this, I felt myself ejaculating, so I pulled my penis out and rested.
I had her lie down on the bed, then climbed on top of her, kissed her, and squeezed her breasts hard. Every now and then, I would place my penis between her breasts and give her a blowjob. I don't think I'd ever truly appreciated her beautiful breasts before, when we were together, but today they were truly stunning.
I longed for time to stand still; I wanted to spend my whole life caressing her snow-white, cow-like breasts. After playing with her breasts for a long time, I stood up, turned around, put my buttocks on her face, and positioned my anus against her mouth, letting her lick my anus with her tongue. I squatted down, playing with her breasts with both hands, while also touching her vagina with my fingers and lightly patting it. I made her curl her tongue and try to penetrate my anus as deeply as possible, then licked it with her tongue. It was a truly exhilarating feeling. While she was licking me, my eyes inadvertently glanced at the table and spotted a piece of MM chocolate that was melting in my mouth but not in my hand. So I took one and slowly inserted it into my anus. Then I knelt on the bed, raising my buttocks as high as possible, pointing my anus towards her, and had her lick the chocolate with her tongue first. After a while, I had her suck the chocolate out with her mouth, and then we French kissed and finished the chocolate together.
I felt she was very obedient today; she did whatever I asked her to do. I used all my tricks to give her more satisfaction and a more intense orgasm. I knew she liked the doggy style position, so I had her lie on the bed, moistened my penis with some saliva, and thrust it into her vagina. I stroked her big buttocks while thrusting back and forth forcefully. She let out a series of moans of pleasure, telling me not to stop and to keep fucking her hard. I carefully felt her G-spot and rotated my penis to apply more force to that area. I also squeezed her two drooping breasts hard from behind and had her suck my fingers. I felt she was truly enjoying herself, enjoying the feeling of me fucking her. She was working even harder beneath me, like a prostitute, completely surrendering her body to me, letting me do as I pleased. I was deeply moved, but I tried my best to hide my feelings, not letting her know. I dared not say I loved her again, so I tried my best to give her the best possible orgasm. After trying several positions, we were both almost floating on air. I turned her over, facing me, and pressed myself against her, using the traditional position to enhance our connection. But I didn't dare look at her face; my eyes were only on her breasts as I moved my lower body in and out of her already gushing vagina. My penis was increasingly itchy; I couldn't hold back anymore. A great pressure was building inside me, and I had to release it. Because I wasn't wearing a condom, I asked her where I wanted to ejaculate. She said anywhere was fine, wherever you wanted. I thought for a moment and said I wanted to ejaculate on her face, and she agreed. So I stood on the bed, and she knelt in front of me. I made her look at me and open her mouth. I rapidly pumped my penis in and out, and after a few strokes, I let out a loud cry as a large amount of semen gushed from the head of my penis, more than I could have imagined. The semen landed on her face, eyes, nose, and mouth. After ejaculating, I dipped my penis in some semen and put it in her mouth, making her lick it clean. She obediently cleaned my penis and kissed me deeply a few times.
We were both exhausted, so we cuddled together and fell asleep in the blankets. Holding her in my arms, my eyes welled up with tears, a strange mix of emotion and melancholy washing over me. I sighed softly, unnoticed by her, and gently stroked her back, from her head and neck to her buttocks. After a while, I said, "Why don't you stay here tonight?"
She gently pushed me away, got up, and went to the bathroom to shower. When she came out, she was already dressed. She thanked me for such a wonderful night, saying she would always remember it, and then asked me to walk her downstairs.
We stood quietly downstairs for a while. A gentle breeze rustled the sycamore trees, carrying the scent of grass and flowers from afar. The moon was beautiful too… At that moment, I no longer wanted to keep her. Let her go, let her go to find greater happiness for herself in the distance. All I could do was offer her my deepest blessings.
I offered to drive her home, but she smiled and shook her head. She said to me, “You go ahead, be careful not to get cold.” Then she hailed a passing taxi, got in, and drove away. I watched the car drive off, standing there like a fool. So many memories, in that instant, seemed like fragments from a kaleidoscope, suddenly flooding my mind. At that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that if time could turn back, if everything could start over, I would still marry you, because I love you.
[The End]

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Ex-wife's one-night stand

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