Good little brother F

Last night, I logged onto the forum and saw a message from a fellow enthusiast. He said he was almost thirty, still a virgin, and had no interest in young girls, only mature women, and didn't know what to do. He reminded me of Xiao F.

Xiao F works at an accounting firm, is of average appearance, and has a reserved personality. After I met him on WeChat, he greeted me every day. One day, I casually mentioned that I liked a certain kind of face powder, but it couldn't be ordered by mail because it would break during transit. A few days later, he messaged me: "I brought you the face powder." I asked, "You went to such lengths, are you hoping I'll be grateful and offer myself to you?" He replied, "No need, as long as you're happy." There are plenty of face powders for sale in stores, all kinds of brands, but he flew around for them just because I liked them. A close friend once complained that she asked her boyfriend to buy "Little Wild Wolf" barbecue, but he insisted on bringing "Little Gray Sheep" barbecue because there were too many people queuing outside "Little Wild Wolf." In this restless society, everyone is adaptable, resourceful, and worldly-wise, but they've lost their sincerity. Little F won my favor in this clumsy way. He gave me his love without expecting anything in return, and finally, one night, I willingly reciprocated.

He trembled as he removed my clothes, his face flushed with desire. During foreplay, every part of my body was like a number, incorporated into his word problems, combined into different formulas, which he meticulously added, subtracted, multiplied, and divided, licking, touching, pinching, and kissing. I was panting heavily, urging him to enter quickly. But he earnestly said, "Both nipples, lick each fifty times. The right one has ten left. Don't rush." My lower body was overflowing with desire, and this flood-fighting warrior wanted me to wait.

It felt like a hundred years before he finally started. He muttered incantations, counting again, first a slow number of times, then a medium number, and finally a fast number. Then, changing positions, he accelerated in different speeds. His mechanical, mechanical style of sex tempt me to play a prank. I deliberately writhed and twisted, making it impossible for him to count. The machine went out of control, and in the chaotic rhythm, he soared to the heavens. Afterwards, he was silent for a while, then said, "Every minute with you was fun and unforgettable." I thought that after being back for so long, he would have forgotten me, but one day I opened WeChat, which I hadn't used in ages, and his messages flooded in. He said he thought of me day and night, and was working hard to earn money; once he had enough, he would come to me; if I didn't agree, he would keep waiting… His waiting made me sad, and I couldn't sit beside him sadly forever.

Sex between mature women and young men is often wonderful, but facing reality, all sorts of pressures come crashing down. I'll be old and frail before him, with presbyopia and dentures. Will he still be by my side then? I have no sense of security. I'm full of confidence, but I can't fight against time.

Little F, please don't wait for me anymore, okay? One memory is enough.

[The End]

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Good little brother F

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