Mature woman's online dating (repost)

Online Dating for a Mature Woman (Repost)

I am a 32-year-old woman, and in fact, I am a social psychologist working at a university.
My husband is a pilot, frequently traveling to distant countries, especially Europe. For me, research and teaching are my entire life.
I often work on my laptop, sometimes until late at night. By chance, I read an article about the impact of instant messaging (IM) software on modern communication. It was an American paper where the author pointed out that IM, or instant messaging software, is a highly private interactive communication software. Especially with the addition of video and voice, it becomes a truly private space, inaccessible to anyone. This private communication method is more private and personalized than mobile phones. IM messages are stored on the individual's computer, not on a remote server.
Due to the privacy of IM, many illegal transactions are conducted through this highly private communication software.
During my graduate studies, I majored in adolescent and adult psychology, and I had a great interest in researching the personality and character of adolescents and young adults, especially the formation of adolescents' attitudes towards sex, which has been a long-term academic goal for me.
This article gave me a very exciting inspiration: why not use instant messaging (IM) as an interview tool to study the sexual attitudes of internet users (mostly teenagers)?
Over the next few days, I searched for some academic papers from home and abroad and found that the psychology community seemed to have not yet caught on to this topic. Only some scholars explored the impact of changes in adolescents' technology use on personality formation.
This was not what I wanted. I knew what I wanted was a firsthand research project. And this project could be completed with minimal cost (no need to bear the cost of interviews and data processing) and the most convenient tools (a computer with internet access and other peripherals). For me, this research result would be a pioneering achievement in the domestic psychology community. I, a young person, was extremely excited about this.
Under this theme, I actively formulated my research plan and direction. I planned to select ten respondents of different age groups online and conduct IM interviews for six months. These interview records would become the main content of my research results.
I believed my work would see a breakthrough because of this idea.
However, it turned out that my entire life, including my marriage, underwent an unexpected and significant transformation because of it.

During the research process, I set up two of the most common instant messaging (IM) software in China. After a week of research and exploration, I finally understood the uses of IM and became excited about the research functions it could provide.
The commonality between these two IM media was that they offered plug-in communication functions and webchat functionality. In other words, I could use the IM software to send text messages and conduct private communications, and I could also go online to open chat rooms to find my research subjects (i.e., interviewees).
When I didn't have any 'contacts' on my IM software, the best approach was to randomly find people in various open chat rooms and add them to my contact list for long-term interviews and research.
One evening, I came across a very famous chat website. From what I knew (and from asking students), this website was known as a hub for "compensated dating" and "one-night stands." If I wanted to study adolescent sexual psychology, I figured I could find suitable samples there.
Initially, I found the chat website's chaotic nature very difficult to adapt to. Although I was only 32, my education had little to do with the internet.
This was because my family was poor; I was born in a very remote mountainous town in central Taiwan, and I didn't have a decent computer until I was in middle school. As for internet access, that was something I didn't experience until after university.
After starting graduate school, I worked part-time to buy a desktop computer. It wasn't until I graduated with my doctorate and became a university lecturer (I was 30 at the time) that I had the means and the determination to buy a Compaq laptop.
Normally, I only used the internet to search for professional academic information from home and abroad and to send and receive emails. I wasn't familiar with or interested in other functions and uses of the internet. Let alone chatting with others on a chat website; that was as distant to me as standing on the street trying to pick up a man.
Gradually, I started to get into the swing of things, and my first sample appeared about half an hour after I went online.
His account name was 18cm, and he sent me a smiley face.
18cm: Hi, how are you
? Rachael (my English name): Fine.
Where are you from?
And you
? Northern
? Me too.
How old are you?
32.
Oh, sister. I'm only 18.
(This is the sample I wanted)
Really? So your name is 18cm?
Haha.
What?
It's cm, not old
. Then what is it?
It's the length of my little brother~
(Kids these days...)
Sister, can I ask you something
?
Are you itchy?
Where is itchy?
There! Where
?
Sister,
no.
Really? So you feel itchy when you see me
? Yes
!
...
Want to add me as a friend? Private message me?
Okay.

18cm was the first sample I encountered. She was 18 years old and proudly claimed her genitals were 18 centimeters long. She had a very strong interest in sex. In the following conversation, I wrote it in a dialogue format: "Are you married, sister?"
"Yes."
"Wow, a married woman! Awesome!
" "Yeah." "Where's
your husband?"
"Not here.
" "Where did he go?"
"On a business trip."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"So, do you want one? My 18cm thing is amazing inside.
" "Really?" "Yeah
."
"How many have you had?"
"Two."
"What was your reaction?"
"I screamed a lot, of course. It must have been really good!" "
Really? But psychology says that genitals aren't directly related to female orgasm.
" "No way, it was amazing."
"Really?" I didn't comment. "
Let's arrange a time. Let's meet and have some sex."
"I don't meet people I meet online," I said.
"Really? So you're shy?"
"You could say that."
"Do you video chat?"
"No."
"Give me your phone, I'll call you."
"I won't." I refused. How could I give it to him?
"Really? Then I'm leaving."
"Can't we chat without meeting?" Seeing him about to leave, I changed my approach.
"Sure, I can video chat, but..." "
?"
"How do I know if you're male or female?"
"Why should I pretend to be male?" I asked.
"Who knows? Maybe you're gay. You idiot!"
"I'm not."
"Then prove it. How about this, turn on voice chat."
"How do I turn it on?" I asked.
"Press voice chat, turn your computer up loud, or use a microphone or headphones."
I put on my headphones, pressed the voice chat button, and the computer spoke. A boy's voice came through.
"Hello!" the boy said. It was a rather gentle voice.
"Hello," I replied.
"Ah, it really is a girl. Your voice is very sweet, sister?"
"Can we type now?" I didn't want to reveal any clues about myself.
"Okay."
I turned off the voice chat, and a message appeared on my computer: "The other party is 18cm. Please view his video."
I pressed 'Confirm,' and less than two seconds later, a square appeared on the screen. A figure appeared.
It was a guy with a buzz cut, who seemed quite cute.
He smiled at the camera and typed: "Want to see my brother, sister?"
I didn't answer. Because this wasn't a necessary part of the research. I was more concerned about the interview process.
Unexpectedly, he lowered the camera, revealing a straight male genital! A black, hairy, and almost grotesque erect penis.
Oh my god! I suddenly felt nauseous.

Even though I'm a professional psychologist, if an interviewee suddenly pulled down their pants and showed me their penis halfway through the interview, I would be just like any other woman—shocked, surprised, and even a little uncomfortable with a sense of threat!
I minimized the video, because I knew what he was going to do next!
"How is it? Big?" he typed.
"Do you do this often?" I asked.
"Do you think this is okay, sis?"
"Do you do this often?" This was the question I was more concerned about.
"Not often, it's just video chat anyway. How old is your husband?" he asked.
I suddenly felt: Am I really suited to do this research?
"I'm tired," I made up a reason.
"Really? I'm hard right now, sis, turn on the voice chat, take off your pants and masturbate with me!"
"Goodnight!"
"Okay...bye-bye."
"bye-bye."
That's how I met my first research subject.

Since it was almost midnight, I quickly took a shower and went to bed.
Strangely enough, that night I had a dream. I dreamt that I was in a mountain, playing alone, when suddenly a man came over, bent down and touched my face.
I couldn't see his face, his face was oval, but in the dream I wasn't afraid.
Then, he pulled me up, lifting my skirt with both hands. It seemed a bit rough, but I had no intention of resisting at all, letting him take off my underwear. Suddenly, I felt a subtle sensation in my lower body…
Then, he also took off his pants, revealing a…
When I woke up, it was already the next morning. I felt slightly wet down there, and my underwear showed signs of drying. Oh my god, I had leaked so much fluid!
This was the first time in a long time that I had woken up in the morning to find wet discharge on my underwear. I knew very well that it was normal vaginal discharge. As far as I could remember, it hadn't happened since my senior year of high school. The wetness was very annoying, making me a little restless in the morning. I rushed to the bathroom to take a shower and then went to school!

"Sister? Are you there?"
At night, I was alone in my room. I was suddenly startled by the sound of the computer speakers.
It was someone greeting me.
"Yeah," I typed in response.
"Great, I've been thinking about you all day yesterday!"
"Really?" I typed again.
"You were tired last night, so I masturbated by myself..."
A line of text appeared quickly, and I could imagine the other person on the other end of the screen, typing rapidly with their fingers.
"Really?" I replied evasively.
Suddenly, the screen stopped typing.
As I was wondering what was going on, another line of text appeared:
"Who do you think enjoys more when older women have sex with younger men? The man or the woman?"
Good heavens! This kid's head is full of sex.
"I don't know! Let's talk about something else?" I don't type very fast, and as I typed that line, he suddenly typed another line:
"I think it's probably the woman who enjoys it more, because 'thirty is like a wolf'... Are you a wolf? Sister? Do you often feel a little itchy between your thighs?"
If someone joked with me like that to my face, no matter how old they were, I would definitely slap them.
However, in the quiet night, safe in my own room, separated by the internet cable, the feeling of being threatened in person seemed much less, mostly because these words were typed out. If they were just spoken, they might sound vulgar.
"My husband's not here, I bet it'll be even itchier!" he typed.
"Push my hard cock into your hole, you'll feel good, right?"
"Use your cunt to welcome my big cock, sister!"
He typed several lines like this. Honestly, this kind of dialogue has no research value. I'm looking for a more psychological conversation, not this one-sided self-aggrandizement, or even boring lines copied from pornography.
Generally speaking, men tend to have a tendency towards "phallus worship." Perhaps they see it as a weapon, a weapon to make women submit, a sense of gender superiority.
If you ask ten women what they think of a man's penis, I think six would tell you directly that they don't care much about it, especially an erect penis, which actually makes normal women feel uncomfortable or even nauseous. The other four probably don't have any special feelings about that organ, and only a few (maybe less than one) would tell you that it excites them.
I decided to change my strategy and stop letting him flaunt his self-righteous sense of superiority.
"No." I retorted, "Are you always this direct?"
"I am very direct."
"Do you know that most women don't like this?"
"Oh? Really? Is that possible?"
"Yeah, you've watched too many porn movies, haven't you? How old were you when you started watching them?" That's how the research topic came about.
"So, are you part of the majority or the minority?"
"Do you like watching porn?" I tried to distract him.
"I don't like watching, I like to act."
"Oh?" I was a little unsure how to continue. "Then, we probably don't have much to talk about."
"Really? Did you have a wet dream last night? Were your underwear wet this morning?"
I started to blush. It was unlikely that a stranger could figure out my behavior.
"No!" I retorted.
"I don't believe you. You must have taken a shower as soon as you got up, right? You saw my penis last night and couldn't resist thinking about it, right? Hehe."
"You really love to fantasize." I felt a sense of guilt that I wanted to hide.
"Fantasy? No way, the first two women I slept with were like that. They saw my penis and slept with me the next day, even though they were older than you! I still did it!"
"Oh?" I was a little skeptical.
“I know there aren’t many women like this, but I often have that kind of luck,” he said. “Maybe it’s some kind of sex wave?”
I couldn’t help but feel thrilled by his words. Unexpectedly, I had encountered a sample with “Oedipus complex” and “excessive sexual fantasies,” which is somewhat representative in adolescent sex research, and may even represent more than half of adolescents.
“Do you actually have sex?” I asked.
“Uh-huh, of course, we do it whenever we want.”
“Tell me your thoughts!” I began to delve into the research topic.
"It was all normal at first. They were both other people's wives. One said I was cute, and the other said I looked like her husband when he was young. Then we went to bed and did it. One of us did it for two hours, and the other was even more outrageous. She gave me oral sex and sucked my penis into her mouth... It was fucking amazing.
" "When did this happen?"
"Just last week," he said. "Friday afternoon."
"And then?"
"Just once. What else?"
"Wasn't it with two of them? How come it was only once?"
"Of course! I can handle two at once. It was a threesome. They'd never done it before. They were awkward at first, but then they got even more excited than me."
I was a little skeptical. An 18-year-old boy doing a threesome with two women in their thirties?
"I'm not kidding, it's true."
"Was this your first time meeting?" I was curious about the situation.
"Hey, they're my mom's friends, aunties! My mom went abroad, and they came to take care of me. They only stayed for three days before they both slept with me!"
"Your mom's friends, how old are they?"
"They're my mom's god-sisters, one's thirty-six, the other almost forty, I don't know." They
're definitely older than me!
"And your dad?"
"My dad? My parents divorced a long time ago!"
"Really?" So it's a single-parent family.
"Hey sis, guess... how many orgasms they had?"
"I don't know." How would I know?
"One three times, one five times." He said, "I came twice in two hours, so tiring! But it was so good!"

I was a little surprised because, based on my own experience, when my husband and I have sex, I only have one orgasm each time. And it comes very late, sometimes even after my husband has finished, I'm still warming up.
Of course, the quality of sex isn't ideal for me, but I think there's more to it than meets the eye between a man and a woman.
"Sis, come on, turn on the video, I really want to masturbate right now," the boy said.
"Isn't your aunt there?"
"Once is enough. They want it every day, how can I stand it?"
"I don't know. You're masturbating in front of me? You can't even see me!" "
I know, but it feels great. I'm masturbating for a woman, a mature woman. A woman whose husband isn't home."
"It's a business trip. What do you mean 'not home'?" I'm very sensitive about this. My husband's job is flying, a very safety-critical and sensitive profession. Although I'm highly educated, I still try to avoid these kinds of words as much as possible.
"Okay, business trip," he said. "How is it, sis?"
Then he asked me to confirm the video call. I was a little reluctant, but I pressed the button.
First, his face appeared. Not bad, he was indeed a cute boy. He had thick eyebrows. You could tell that if he matured a few years later, he would be a handsome man that most women would fall for.
The video camera zoomed out, and I saw that his upper body was completely naked. He was sitting on the bed, touching his black underwear, stroking between his legs.
I watched the boy on the video call making those movements. At first, I felt a little awkward and tried to look away, focusing on his upper body.
I noticed he was a very strong boy with well-developed muscles. This was different from my husband.
My husband has an average build and isn't actually my ideal man. My ideal man was a physical education teacher from high school. I had a crush on him for a long time but never dared to confess. Of course, that unrequited love faded away with my teenage years.
Suddenly, this boy reminded me of my high school coach's physique—those thick muscles, that bronze skin—and it made my heart flutter.
"Do you like sports?" I asked.
"Yeah, I like swimming and basketball!"
Then I watched the video call as he started to take off his black underwear. It revealed a disproportionately large penis.
It was indeed very big! I thought.
The boy started masturbating, showing a close-up of his dark, muscular penis on the screen, along with his flat, firm abdominal muscles. His glans, flushed with youthful desire, swelled slowly under the rubbing of his hand, like a sponge absorbing water.
Instantly, I felt a surge of excitement that made me dizzy.
The boy, while masturbating, waved to me through the video call.
I began to react. First, I felt a dampness in my underwear, then a slight itching sensation inside my vagina.
I realized I was aroused by his physical allure. This was an experience I had never had before.
Watching the boy's caresses, I entered a state of psychological excitement. His glans was incredibly thick, like a mushroom head. I even began to fantasize about how his body, if inserted into any woman's vagina, would bring her insane pleasure.
I unconsciously began to caress my breasts, always my erogenous zone. Touching them sent a jolt of electric stimulation through my heart. I began to pant, my chest heaving like ocean waves.
I became excited—an inner excitement. For women, psychological excitement is more lasting and intense than physical sensation.
"This isn't stimulating enough..." the boy typed.
I removed my hand from my chest, my breath still ragged.
"Do you have a webcam?" he said. "Attach a microphone, let's have some virtual sex."
I opened a drawer and took out a webcam, the kind used for video conferencing. I never imagined it would come in handy in such a chaotic moment.
I hesitated, because this seemed to contradict my original research intentions. I didn't want to be like a female doctoral student who went into the adult entertainment industry to conduct "field research" on pornography. After all, I majored in "psychology," not social work, and there was no need to "test the law."
However, another voice seemed to be urging me on. I wasn't sure what the motivation was, but I subconsciously installed the video and stared blankly at the video on the screen.
"Is it installed?" the boy asked.
"Yes," I typed. I tacitly approved of the strange behavior that was about to unfold between us.
"Open it!"
I pressed the invite button, and my image immediately appeared on the screen. I saw myself, and I was startled. I immediately turned the camera in another direction, to the dressing table in the room.
"Oh, I see your room, it's the dressing table!"
"Yeah."
"You can adjust it back, I want to see you."
I slowly adjusted the camera to my direction, the image blurry and shaky, finally landing on my chest.
"Such beautiful breasts."
I was wearing a low-cut nightgown, without a bra, and I noticed my cleavage was clearly visible in the video call frame, both strange and familiar.
I could almost feel the boy's excitement, because he typed:
"I really want you to take it off right now."
I didn't, but the image on the screen excited me—on one side was a man's naked body without any covering, and on the other was my body in the low-cut nightgown. The two images created a magical midnight seduction, much like a scene often seen in adult films, yet so real. In fact, I didn't even know where he lived.
"Can you take it off, sis?"
I hesitated for several seconds, then took off my low-cut nightgown, revealing my upper body.
"Great! Beautiful," the boy typed: "So pretty."
I looked at myself in the video call. Under the milky white light, the video reflected a fair woman's body—it was me. My prominent, rounded breasts formed a deep cleavage on my chest, and suddenly I felt that my body was something to be proud of.
The boy didn't type, but on the screen, he started sticking out his tongue to kiss me.
"Don't do that," I typed, refusing his advances.
He obediently withdrew his tongue and then typed:
"Put on your headphones, let's talk."
I didn't put on headphones, but simply turned on the speakerphone connected to my computer and turned the volume down to the lowest setting.
"Can you hear me?" the boy's voice came through the speakerphone.
"Yes," I typed back.
"Can I talk, sis?" the boy spoke again.
Hearing him call out so naturally, my guard suddenly dropped by half.
I turned on my microphone.
"Answer me," he said.
"Mmm," I responded slightly.
"Can you speak louder?"
"How loud?" I countered.
"This is good," the boy said, "just the right volume."
"Take off your panties too. I want to see your whole body," the boy said.
I stood up and removed the last piece of clothing from my body. My complete female body was revealed.
"Wow, this is amazing, I'm hard just looking at you, sis... oh..." the boy began to pant, his voice trembling with excitement. The screen showed him rapidly rubbing his penis.
"Lie down, sis..."
I gently lay down, supporting my head with my hand. The video quickly showed a woman lying on the bed. Although it was a side view, I was facing the camera, so my breasts, navel, and even the pubic hair between my thighs were fully displayed.
"So beautiful," the boy exclaimed, "I really want you."
Heaven knows my face was already flushed, but the excitement hadn't subsided.
"Masturbate for me," the boy said, "Let's do it together."
I lay down, gently stroking my breasts, glancing at the screen sideways. The boy's face was always facing me, his penis grotesque, seemingly even more so than yesterday.
I liked to lightly touch my nipples; it was a very private action. I was with myself.
"Oh, little brother wants to fuck sister! I really want to fuck sister!" The boy seemed increasingly excited, "Sis! How about I fuck you with my dick?"
I didn't answer, just continued to stroke my breasts. In the midnight room, the boy's panting seemed to echo everywhere.
Because of this, I slowly entered a erotic state.
I wildly spread my legs, shifted my position, and faced the webcam with my genitals. I slowly caressed my genitals.
"Amazing, sis, I'm going to fuck you! Fuck!" the boy shouted, while vigorously and rapidly rubbing his body.
I watched the webcam and began to fantasize about the boy coming towards me with his hard penis, squeezing into a part of me that I rarely used. Thinking this, my genitals seemed to feel an invisible force penetrating them.
Relying on my imagination, I let the strange boy enter my body.
The room was filled with the boy's moans. The boy's moans were somewhat excited, making me imagine the boy's actual emotions during sex. People at this age are probably like this, not knowing any foreplay or caresses, only knowing how to thrust and pound.
Strangely, I seemed to enjoy this feeling. The difference between the boy and my husband was that pure passion.
If that was the case, I had no reason to resist.
I began to drift into a fantasy of actual sex, imagining the boy on top of me, his ravenously thirsty body entering me and uniting with me. And I, in turn, offered my most intimate parts, accepting the boy.
"Ah…" I hissed softly, a sensation of pleasure from being violated and penetrated by the boy. In reality, it was just the pleasure from my fingers caressing my clitoris. An electric-like pleasure surged from my lower body, through my abdomen, and rapidly up to my heart.
I inserted my middle finger into my own flesh. In high school, I had done this a few times, but then, overwhelmed by guilt, I gave it up. However, tonight, I seemed to have rediscovered my youth. Perhaps due to physical maturity, the feeling now was stronger, more exciting, and more exhilarating than before.
So this is what a woman's vagina is for—for a man to enter!
I felt the stimulation of my clitoris and the intense pleasure from stroking my vagina. I let out a soft moan.
"Sis! That's amazing! I love you!" the boy said wildly. "Fuck you, I want to fuck you, fuck my sis!"
"Oh..." Under the boy's words, my vagina contracted, a strong pleasure that felt like a sweet fruit to me.
"Sis! Can we do it together? I really can't take it anymore, I want to cum inside... inside you..."
Hearing this, I became even more excited. In fact, I didn't know why I felt this way. It seemed that under the boy's aphrodisiac words, I was having an unprecedented dialogue with my own body. This dialogue was both private and without any guilt. I was surprised at how different my thoughts were from before.
My body continued to feel the stimulation from my own caresses and the boy's provocative words—a kind of sexual pleasure. I've never been particularly sensitive to sexual sensations, but at this moment, I found that every hair on my body seemed to stand on end from the pleasure surging within me; that's what's commonly known as "goosebumps."
The pleasure never stopped; the boy kept talking and shouting. I wasn't paying much attention, but just the sound of a man's voice in my ear, combined with my own caresses, seemed enough to satisfy me.
"Ah..." When the first orgasm came, I had to exert a great deal of effort to suppress it so I wouldn't cry out.
But the rush of pleasure to my head made me feel intensely dizzy, confused, and excited. Then, I heard the boy shout, "Sis, I came! I came all of it for you! For you! Oh! For you!"
In my mind, I saw this image: that surging male heat, rushing quickly and unimpeded, straight into the depths of my body, entering my uterus, the reproductive penis mercilessly releasing millions of sperm into my body.
Accompanying these words, I experienced another orgasm. The two orgasms surged within me, and I couldn't hold back anymore, letting out a moan: "Oh! Ah…" I cried out, my brow furrowed; in fact, it was a sound full of excitement and satisfaction. It lasted for a long, long time. …………….Riding
on this alternating pleasure, I was led to a world I had never experienced before.
"Sis is amazing, I love it! Let's go out for coffee and have a real one?" he typed.
I didn't answer. Reaching orgasm through masturbation while doing research was truly shameful.
I didn't even answer, just shut down the computer and went to take a shower.
The scene of masturbating in bed was still vividly etched in my mind, except now, in my mind, there seemed to be a naked man on the bed, intimately making obscene movements on my body. Thinking about this, I couldn't help but feel my ears burning. Could it be that I was sexually unsatisfied?
This had to stop—reason told me that at the very least, I shouldn't use that boy with the account name '18cm' as a research subject, because I had already made him the object of my sexual fantasies! If I did it, I would never want to think about this research again. The next day, my husband returned from Europe. I acted as if nothing had happened. In fact, nothing had happened; it was all happening in my mind. There was no man, no real sex, only my orgasm after masturbation. That was the essence of the matter.
That night, my husband, whom I hadn't seen for a long time, gently caressed me, even penetrating me. We made love. When I got up to shower afterward, alone in the bathroom, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. What
I was thinking about was still that virtual sex. As for the scene of making love with my husband just now, I had no clear memory of it at all. It was as if I had just completed a... "routine."
After showering, my husband lay down next to me, seemingly very tired, already fast asleep.
I suddenly felt a desire, an uncontrollable desire.
I picked up the computer from the small work desk, unplugged it, and secretly took out the webcam and microphone from the drawer. I left the master bedroom alone and went to the adjacent work room. Inside were my data and all my work reports. That was my workplace.
I set up the computer, went online, and sure enough, the '18cm' account was glowing, as if waiting for me.
"Sis~ I've been waiting for you for so long." The boy typed this line.
"Waiting for me?"
"Yeah, I want to fuck you!" The boy's words suddenly made me feel extremely excited.
"My husband is home, sleeping."
"Oh? I'm so jealous! You two must have just made love?" the boy asked.
"Yeah."
"Then why don't you go sleep with him? Can't you sleep?"
"Yeah."
"I know!" the boy said, "Your husband can't satisfy you, so you have to come to me!"
This kid is so clever! He hit the nail on the head.
"My husband can't satisfy me, is it because he's too small?"
"No," I indirectly agreed with him.
"How many minutes did it take?" he asked.
"Less than five minutes." I typed, "It's always like this."
"Really? That's lame?" the boy said, "Sis! Turn on the video, let me see if your lower body is still wet?"
I turned on the video, and my image appeared on the screen, of course, only my lower body wearing underwear.
The boy invited me to watch his video, and he appeared on the screen with a grin.
"Sis's breasts are so beautiful! I want you when I see them." the boy typed, "Move the video down a bit, I want to see your lower body."
I hesitated for a moment, but then I thought that since he couldn't see my face, it was fine. So I adjusted the camera down, slowly adjusting it to the area where my thighs crossed.
"The light's too dark, I can't see," the boy said. "Can you adjust it?"
I placed the lamp on the small wooden table next to me, turning off the webcam to reveal my purple underwear.
"So beautiful! Extremely sexy," the boy said. "I really want to fuck you."
My ears burned, and I felt a faint sensation in my chest. I knew it was unfulfilled desire. And I needed to satisfy that desire.
"Is your clitoris sensitive, sis?"
"Yes," I answered truthfully.
"Touch your clitoris, look at me," the boy said.
I looked at him, my right hand reaching down to my genitals, stroking my clitoris.
The boy took off all his clothes in front of me, revealing the male body that had once stirred my heart and body. Suddenly, my clitoris felt this stirring, and the stimulation intensified. This physical stimulation made me involuntarily let out a soft "hmm."
The boy, his penis erect, faced me and typed:
"Sis~ Let me fuck your hole, okay?"
Reluctantly, I pulled my hand away from my body and typed "Okay."
The boy seemed excited and began rubbing his penis, while I, in front of the computer, caressed my breasts and genitals.
At this moment, I was disheveled. Although I was only wearing underwear and a short-sleeved nightgown, I hadn't buttoned it up, letting the thin, delicate neckline slant across my chest, revealing my right breast. My whole body felt like it was on fire; lust urged every move I made. I felt a strong desire surging and expanding in my chest, my heart racing, and my face burning.
What was initially just caressing outside my underwear slowly slipped inside as the passion intensified. I began to fantasize about the boy's gentle hands entering my underwear, touching my most private parts. This thought drove me even crazier!
I dared not make a sound, though I desperately wanted to. My husband next door was already asleep, while I, with a laptop, was secretly in my room, masturbating with a boy I'd never met before, even reaching orgasm. It was both ridiculous and incredibly exciting for me. Looking at the boy's body, his strong physique, and his erect penis, I felt completely melted!
My clitoris began to secrete fluid, wetting my hands—the wellspring of a woman's desire. With the increased secretion of fluid, my desire grew stronger, my body grew hotter, and my throat felt dry.
Now, how I longed to truly make love to a man like him! To let him enter me, to let his wild, thrashing movements drive away my emptiness and need!
Suddenly, just as I was lost in my own daydream, there was a knock at the door.
"Honey? Are you still busy?" It was my husband.
"Yeah, I still have some work to do," I quickly straightened my clothes, turned off the video call, and opened my files.
My husband opened the door and came in. I turned to look at him.
"So busy?"
"Yes," I almost stopped breathing and answered in a very calm tone, "I have a research report that I need to finish. You should go to sleep first!"
"Sigh, I'm really busy. I forgot to tell you earlier that I'm switching flights with Lao Chen tomorrow. I'm flying to Japan. It's very close; I'll be back in Taiwan by midnight."
"Oh?" I asked, "Aren't you going to sleep?"
"It's okay, I still have time to sleep. You go ahead and do your work! I won't bother you." My husband smiled. "I'm going to sleep now."
"Okay," I said, "Goodnight."
After my husband left, I breathed a sigh of relief. My mind was blank.
I had never noticed that the man I married was already a middle-aged man with gray hair. And he seemed to look even older at night.
Suddenly, a young man's body entered my mind.
I turned on my computer and started a video call. I also turned on his.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, the connection dropped."
"Could it be your husband checking up on you?
This young man's guess is spot on!
" "No way!" "This is
so exciting! Sis, what if your husband finds out you're having online sex with me? What will he do?"
"Nothing will happen." I replied irritably, "What could happen?"
"Hey~ Sis, you really seem like a woman having an affair, even your tone is different from the past few days, hehe, great!"
"Really?" I asked doubtfully.
"Yeah. Let's not waste time, let's continue making love!"
The boy started fiddling with his body again, his erect penis, almost at an 80-degree angle, was clearly visible in the video frame.
This aroused my desire again, and I put my hand back where it was. I started stroking my own body.
Slowly, the feeling rekindled, burning in my heart and body. I enjoyed the pleasure of masturbation, really! And just like that, I quickly reached another climax. I never imagined I was such a wanton woman.
We didn't stop fantasizing about having sex. The boy trembled, seemingly trying to calm me down. I laughed when I saw him swaying his hips!
Suddenly, I realized that my long-dormant desires had been ignited by a teenage boy.
"I'm dying of laughter," I typed, "your position."
"How about it? I'm cute, right?"
"Yeah," I typed while smiling, even I could feel the sensuality of that knowing smile. I loved this feeling.
"Sis! Did you climax?"
"Yeah."
"But, I haven't."
"But, I'm tired." I typed.
"Please, can I see your face?"
I hesitated.
He had already seen my body completely; now I wanted him to see my face too?
"Please, just for a moment," the boy pleaded, "Just for a moment."
I didn't completely refuse his request. Perhaps the tension and panic in my heart had been purified by the recent climax?
I slowly brought the video feed to the computer screen. My hair appeared on the screen—slightly long, straight hair—then down to my face, and soon I saw my own face on the computer. Those bright, clear eyes were my proudest feature, inherited from my mother. I know I wasn't born a beauty, nor was I naturally stunning; I was just refined and pretty, even a bit popular with men. Since middle school, I've had no shortage of suitors, but because of my impoverished background, I always buried myself in my studies and never took love seriously.
"Ah! Sis, you're so beautiful~" the boy said.
I immediately pulled the video feed down. How ridiculous! I actually revealed my appearance? Was I just bewitched by this boy?
"I never thought there would be a beauty like you online, it really breaks traditional notions," the boy said. "The internet isn't the Jurassic Kingdom anymore, hehe, it's really worth showing you. Let me see again."
"No," I retorted, "I'm not showing you anymore."
"Please, sis, beautiful and sexy sis, seeing you makes me want to masturbate again," the boy said.
In the past, hearing such direct language from a man would have been utterly uninteresting. However, somehow, the language of the virtual world didn't feel threatening to me. Youth is a resource I feel I'm gradually losing, especially since my relationship with that boy began. Every time I think about the age gap between us, more than ten years, and the things we do that I wouldn't even dare to imagine during the day, I feel a little strange.
This virtual, emotional affair always hits a bottleneck.
Our online lovemaking always brings me to orgasms even more intensely than with my husband.
My physical needs also grow with the frequency of these orgasms, and I feel increasingly unable to satisfy my deeper carnal desires through video and audio.
Unconsciously, I forgot what I was researching. The boy's strong, young male physique became increasingly sexually attractive to me, and the deeper our familiarity deepened, the more it awakened a dormant part of me.
I know I can no longer control my body; the sense of chastity I hold as a married woman has reached a breaking point.
Undoubtedly, in this situation, the boy and I will one day meet in person to seek the desire and pleasure that real flesh brings me.
I looked forward to it, to the day my defenses crumbled. "Sis, let's meet?" After the climax of our online lovemaking, he made this request again: "Let's make love for real. How about it?"
I hesitated, the lingering excitement after the climax making me want to agree.
I pondered; Thursday was the best time. I had no classes that afternoon, and my husband was scheduled to fly to Europe. Could this be a real opportunity for an affair?
Suddenly, a physical desire resurfaced within me—a desire that hadn't been satisfied—or rather, had never been satisfied at all.
"Hmm," I typed as if committing a crime: "Thursday." Three more days.
"Really? You want to meet me?"
"Yes."
"That's great. You'll absolutely love me. Hehe." The boy typed.
"Really?" I agreed inwardly, but didn't show it.
And so, we arranged a place, and I prepared to begin my "forbidden date," an affair.
From that night on, I began to meticulously care for my entire body, hoping not to show any signs of aging in front of him.
I've forgotten any of the small talk we exchanged when we met; all I remember is that passionate afternoon I'll never forget.
The boy was a good twenty centimeters taller than me, very tall and imposing. I was already petite, and that physical proportion made me even more excited, and it helped me break free from societal expectations: "I'm here for an affair."
As soon as we entered the motel room, the boy eagerly kissed me. I didn't resist much; why would I resist?
We embraced and kissed tightly. I could clearly feel the desire rising from our intertwined lips to my genitals.
The boy quickly and efficiently removed my clothes, until we were both completely naked.
I liked this direct approach. Since we were here, this was how it should be; there was no need to hide anything, it was just physical intimacy.
The boy pulled me onto the bed and began kissing my breasts, slowly moving his kisses over my entire body, including my most private parts—areas I've never liked my husband kissing. The boy had begged me repeatedly before I reluctantly agreed.
When his private parts touched my genitals, I trembled and felt hot all over.
That feeling, for a mature woman who had never truly experienced sexual satisfaction, was like opium; once you took it, you became addicted, sinking into an abyss from which you couldn't escape.
I was intoxicated by that intimate physical sensation, his lips pressed between my legs.
"I really want to spend the whole afternoon with you," the boy said.
"Okay!" I replied.
A sliver of afternoon sunlight danced through the gap in the closed curtains, dappling my chest and occasionally flickering onto the back of the boy's head.
The sunlight was still; it was our bodies that were moving.
"Sister, I love you. Sister, my wife..." The boy's face was pressed against my chest, and I could feel the burning heat of his tongue in his kisses. Between my legs, I held his body tightly. His hard, masculine flesh pressed against me.
A sense of unbridled freedom, an unparalleled pleasure—
"Oh~ Ah~ Darling~ Honey~ I love you~" I gasped and cried out.
I had never said those words before, and I didn't know where I had come across them.
I remember calling him "little brother," "older brother," "husband," and several other names, which I felt were the intimacy of physical union.
However, what struck me most was the lewd term I later used in Hokkien to call him "guest brother," a term I found obscene.
This term had never crossed my mind before, yet I uttered it several times, I don't know how comfortable or pleasurable it was.
"Sister wife... Sister wife," the boy shouted as he attacked me, "Are you comfortable? Am I fucking you comfortably? Say it! Say it!"
At this moment, I no longer felt that the word "fuck" was a vulgar word—it was just pure physical action.
"Brother, you're fucking me so comfortably!" I moaned in Hokkien, "You're making me so wet down there..."
The boy seemed even more excited upon hearing my lewd words.
His penis skillfully touched every erogenous zone inside me, he rubbed against my depths with great dominance.
The tip of his penis was very thick, rubbing against my lower body until my whole body went numb, I'm sure most women couldn't withstand the pleasure brought by this kind of rubbing.
"Fuck me to death, I love you fucking me..." I kept moaning this phrase over and over.
"I'll fuck you like this for the rest of my life, fuck you, my dear sister and wife... okay... okay?" The boy roared as he thrust deep into my body, bringing me even more intense pleasure.
Our naked bodies, male and female, were deeply intertwined and swaying, our postures extremely obscene, and the stimulation reached its peak.
"Yes, yes!... Ah~~ no~" I cried out, "No..." I reached my climax.
At that moment, the boy reached my deepest point.
I shouldn't call him a boy, he was already a man.
The man seemed to know my preferences, he deeply plunged his penis into my deepest point, and then shook his firm buttocks.
That feeling drove me crazy. Every thrust into my body brought me pleasure that was worse than death.
"Oh~ dear sister~ dear wife~ I'm going to cum for you, husband... I'm going to cum for you~ dear sister~ I'm cumming... cumming~ ah ah... ah ah." The man was aroused, his body bursting with energy.
In his brief, frenzied pleasure, I felt the man's excitement, he propelled me to the peak of desire. My senses were stimulated to their absolute peak, undoubtedly the absolute peak.
Amidst the passionate cries of lovemaking, I reached another climax.
That was my fourth time that afternoon. But his first time that day.
I accepted his semen, which finally erupted inside me, without reservation.
Without reservation—
because a week ago, I had taken birth control pills. This was the moment the pills were taking effect.
Our bodies remained tightly locked, feeling each other's breaths and heartbeats, and our excessively hot body temperatures.
"Come on, sister," the boy pulled away from me, "let's take a shower."
He led me to the luxurious bathroom. He turned on the tap, the water jets cascading over our naked bodies.
"Ahaha...so cold..." I laughed and exclaimed.
"Ice and Fire Fivefold Heaven..." the boy laughed.
"What?"
"Didn't you watch TV? Don't you know Ice and Fire Fivefold Heaven?"
I shook my head.
"I'll teach you, don't move," the boy said, spraying water directly onto his genitals.
"What are you doing? Aren't you cold? You're crazy!" I laughed and scolded.
The boy smiled, "Give me a blowjob, sis."
"I don't want to," I laughed, "You were all sticky just now..."
"It's all clean," the boy said, "Hurry up, wife..." He pleaded. I couldn't resist.
I lowered myself, looking at his semi-erect penis, which seemed quite large.
"The water's cold, don't splash me..." I protested.
"Okay," the boy suddenly turned the water up to hot, then told me to "open my mouth."
"What?" I asked.
"Take a sip of hot water, hurry, take it in your mouth," the boy urged.
"Ice and fire fivefold?" I asked.
"Yes, hurry up."
I scooped up some hot water with my palm and swallowed. Then I took his in my mouth.
His penis was still a little cold, and when the hot water touched it, he let out a "whoosh."
I don't do this often, but at this moment I didn't resist at all.
His male body slowly regained its hardness in my mouth.
"Ah~ wife..." the boy began to shout, "Come on! Come on! Hurry up."
He even grabbed my hair and used my mouth as if it were his genitals, thrusting in and out repeatedly.
"You... don't..." I felt a sense of humiliation from this action: "Don't do this!"
"Oh~ dear sister, then you have to let me do it again!"
The boy impatiently lifted my body, making me support myself against the wall with my back to him.
He quickly entered me from behind, and I don't know why it was so easy.
His entry reignited my passion.
We made love again in the bathroom.
He held my breasts as he entered me from behind.
The feeling was different again.
The moaning and groaning need no further explanation; my body, filled to the brim by a man, drove me wild once more.
He was completely different from my husband. I had betrayed him, yet felt nothing.
We were like lovers, not like adulterers.
If past online sex was an illusion, then this real sex was a dream.
A dream I didn't want to wake up from.
A dream of "betrayal." I remember, many years ago, one afternoon, I also heard those wanton moans.
I don't know how old I was then, but I was probably old enough to understand. Perhaps eight or nine?
In my mother's room, I saw her having sex with a stranger. At the time, I didn't understand what they meant by doing that in the room. My mother was naked, and so was the man; their bodies were intertwined in a very unnatural way.
That scene frightened me as a child.
But I clearly remember that what she was shouting was the same words I had just shouted.
"Brother, it feels so good to fuck me!" "You've made me so wet!" These kinds of extremely lewd words.
I don't know which part of my mind I locked this memory in. But now it's unlocked.
My mother, taking advantage of my father's long absences, brought men home for extramarital affairs, hiding in her room during the day to have sex with them. After that, I rarely heard or saw similar scenes again.
Perhaps my memories are selective? Filtering out some unpleasant past events that I don't need to remember.
What's terrifying is that when my physical desires burn fiercely, I am a carbon copy of my mother.
The lewd moans, the swaying posture of her naked body, the parts she lets the man take advantage of, even the screams when she reaches orgasm, are all exactly the same.
Mother and daughter are alike, even their affairs with other men are the same.
That year, my mother seemed to be like me, thirty-two years old, a woman empty in body and soul, a woman who betrayed her husband. I was about twelve years old when I entered junior high school, had just started menstruating, and my body had already begun to change.
I saw the first computer I'd ever seen in my life at school. It was in an office with a sign that said "Computer Room." There were only two computers inside. I'd never seen one before and was very curious.
The teacher took us to see the two computers and even showed us how to use them. It was very interesting.
One day, I think I was on duty, after the flag was lowered, a classmate told me, "The teacher is looking for you! In the computer room."
I went to the computer room. It seemed like the sun was still very strong, but the computer room was in a secluded corner of the campus, and many classes had already let out for the day.
I went to the computer room alone, and sure enough, the teacher was waiting for me.
"Come here," the teacher called me in.
The air conditioning in the computer room was on high, and it was a bit cold.
"Are you very interested in this computer?" the teacher asked me.
"Yes," I nodded.
"Okay, I'll teach you. Come and sit down."
The teacher made room for me at the computer room, and I was a little flattered.
He sat down next to me and began to teach me some commands.
"This is DOS... The computer can do this because of DOS..."
He then rambled on for a while, which I only vaguely understood, but I was grateful for the opportunity.
The teacher was a refined young man, and some of the girls in the class even had crushes on him.
Then, something strange happened.
While I was using the computer, the teacher seemed to intentionally or unintentionally touch my chest.
It was a very sensitive feeling; at that time, I had just finished puberty, and my nipples were still very sensitive. Even an unintentional touch from the teacher felt like an electric shock.
Slowly, the teacher's body pressed close to mine.
Then, he pulled me up, seemingly a bit roughly, but I had no desire to resist at all.
He didn't seem to be punishing me for being too stupid, but that's what I really thought at the time—I was too stupid, and he was going to spank me.
He quickly pulled down my underwear, and at that moment, I realized something was wrong.
"Teacher..." I hesitated.
"Don't move, don't be nervous," the teacher said.
Suddenly, I felt something touching my genitals. A subtle feeling...
Then, what I remember is that I was holding onto the table with both hands, legs spread, eyes fixed on the computer screen...
The teacher tickled me from behind. At the time, I thought it was an itch, but the location was strange—it was my clitoris. The teacher's palms were cupping my most private area between my legs, his fingers constantly playing with it.
"Good girl... Teacher likes you so much," the teacher murmured.
I felt a little uncomfortable because that area felt sticky, like I needed to urinate.
"Teacher... I need to go to the toilet..." I asked him.
"Okay, you can pee here," the teacher said.
"But..." I hesitated, "I can't."
I held it in, not because I was in a hurry, but because the feeling was really strange. It was clearly an uncomfortable feeling, yet it brought a vague pleasure to my body. At that time, I was staring at the computer screen.
When I got home, I saw my mother and unconsciously felt a sense of disgust. I hated myself.
My three years of junior high school were painful; the experience in the computer room that day still haunted me. It even accompanied me through my melancholic and heavy middle school years. To avoid wallowing in endless self-blame and shame, I studied diligently, trying to escape the real world. Those memories were gradually...

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Mature woman's online dating (repost)

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