Junior Sister

One day after get off work, as soon as I walked in the door, my wife rushed over, hugged me excitedly, and said, "I got the spot to go to America this time!" I pretended to be excited too, and took her to a restaurant to celebrate. That night, we inevitably celebrated again in bed. My wife was very excited, so she quickly got into character, reached her peak, and snuggled into my arms, falling fast asleep. But I, on the other hand, didn't feel tired as usual, and kept my eyes open, lost in thought. Actually, I didn't want her to go to America, but there was nothing I could do. It was her long-cherished wish, and I couldn't stop her. Her company has a few spots for going abroad every year. America is the top choice, and everyone fights tooth and nail for it; Britain is also good, Australia is acceptable, and other smaller countries are desperately declined, because going to those countries is also considered going abroad, and you won't get a chance next time. So only those who might not get a spot for seven or eight years will step forward to save everyone else, since it's considered going abroad. Actually, the place in America isn't great; it's a small town in the central mountains, equivalent to a county town in southern China. Everyone who returned complained. After a year abroad, they only received a few hundred dollars a month for food, all their domestic benefits were cancelled, resulting in a difference of seventy or eighty thousand yuan. They didn't get any degree, not even a "prestigious" academic achievement. And now, less than a year after 9/11, there's this terrifying anthrax outbreak. Even so, it couldn't dampen people's enthusiasm for America. The paperwork for leaving the country was processed quickly, except for the visa. Because the US is under terrorist threat, visas are extremely difficult to obtain. Out of 600 people a day, only twenty or thirty get visas. Even so, there are always crowds outside the embassy. My wife was rejected twice, but she persevered, contacting the US repeatedly, going back and forth, which even annoyed me. But this time, I truly experienced the difficulty of obtaining a US visa. Those with good English are denied visas; if their English is that good, they wouldn't need to go to the US to study. Those with poor English are denied visas; with such poor English, they obviously can't do anything in the US and are considered to have immigration intentions. Children visiting parents are denied visas; parents visiting children are denied visas. Even the most important thing in the US—marital reunions—is denied; some couples separated for four or five years just want to reunite for a month or two, yet they are still denied visas. The most ridiculous case is that a large state-owned company from another region needed to purchase equipment for technological upgrades, worth tens of millions of US dollars. They had shortlisted one company each in the US, Germany, and Japan, and needed to conduct due diligence before making a final decision. They knew that US visas were difficult to obtain, so they not only provided invitation letters from the companies but also letters signed by the CEOs, pleading with the embassy to be lenient, emphasizing how important these people were to the US economy. Because the other party was a world-class company, and the purchase amount was tens of millions of US dollars, the people from the domestic company thought they had it all figured out, so they scheduled an interview date, booked a flight for the next day, and had already issued tickets. The US embassy visa officers were incredibly lenient: 3 out of 8 people got visas—a nearly 40% success rate, eight times higher than the average. The problem was that the company's vice president—the decision-maker—the chief engineer—the technical director, and a translator—not just any translator, but a company-trained, industry-specific technical translator, certainly not a regular English translator—failed to get visas. The three who did get visas were a section chief from the State Planning Commission, a section chief from an industry ministry, and a department head—none of them were useful. Nobody understood the visa officer's criteria. The vice president, though never having been to the US, had traveled extensively, visiting dozens of countries in Europe, Asia, and Africa, and held an official passport; the translator had been to the US and was still refused a visa; the department head had never been abroad and was still granted a visa. What was the visa officer thinking? There was no other way but to cancel the tickets and urgently call the US to cancel the visit. In the end, both the Chinese and Americans were angry. Did this just benefit the Japanese and Germans? Under such difficult conditions, my wife finally got her visa on the third try. With only a few days left before the start of the semester, the next steps were course selection, registration, applying for dorms, a shopping spree, and packing. After years of marriage, a year apart inevitably leads to longing and intimacy, which is only natural. However, with increased quantity comes decreased quality, sometimes becoming merely a formality. But I felt I should make up for some of the hundred-plus nights we'd spent apart, so I was exhausted every day. Fortunately, my wife's period was coming soon, and she was in high spirits, so there were still a few memorable moments. The day before boarding, we played all day with our son, and in the evening, as usual, we had a farewell ceremony, but I was already exhausted. After much caressing, she was still dry. I finally managed to get an erection, but seeing this, I couldn't help but feel dejected. My wife touched my penis, and I stroked her dry lips, sighing, "Looks like we'll have to do it tomorrow morning. Let's get up early tomorrow." "I set the alarm half an hour earlier. The next morning, I was still half asleep when the alarm woke me up, and I quickly turned it off. I was already full of energy, and as usual, my thing got hard without any stimulation. I reached under my wife's buttocks, but it was still dry. There should be some discharge in the morning. My wife mumbled, 'I barely slept last night, you can do it from behind, I'm too tired.' I deflated when I heard that. Doing it myself is worse than masturbating. Besides, how can I get in if it's so dry? I was exhausted too, so I held my wife's breasts and dozed off for a while. An hour passed, then I had something on my mind and suddenly woke up. I looked at the clock and quickly woke my wife, saying repeatedly, 'Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!! It's late.' My wife also jumped up and went to the bathroom to clean up." I quickly woke up my parents and children, and after a flurry of activity, the five of us finally arrived at the airport on time. After seeing my parents and children off, I spent some time with my wife before heading home. Returning to the cold, quiet house, I felt completely out of place. There was no children's laughter, no wife's tenderness; I was all alone. It didn't feel like home anymore. Sometimes I'd wake up suddenly at night, only to find no one beside me. I poured all my energy into work, arriving early in the morning and never rushing home at night. My contact with my wife was limited to emails and online chats on weekends, because of the ten-plus-hour time difference between China and the US, our days and nights were reversed. Sometimes I'd download pictures and movies to pass the time and release my pent-up emotions. Once, some Singaporeans came to the company, and I went out to entertain them that night, using the opportunity to use company funds for a visit to a brothel. While it wasn't the first time I'd had a casual encounter, I hadn't done it since getting married, always living a dutiful life. This time, however, I felt particularly uncomfortable. Listening to the prostitute's insincere moans, coupled with the tickling sensation in my groin, I still felt empty afterward. I didn't experience the satisfaction I felt after making love with my wife, especially the sense of conquest I felt the day after leaving her completely infatuated. So I never went back to prostitutes; I relied on myself. Several girls at the company had their eyes on me, and hearing that I was single, they started flirting with me even more. One secretary even texted me late at night, from midnight to 3 a.m., until I couldn't take it anymore and invited her to the pizza place. She thought I was interested in her and, instead of her usual respectful attitude, playfully scolded me. She even told me about how she was caught watching porn with a guy by her sister and had a huge argument with her. She concluded, "I didn't want to explain anything to my sister. I told her, 'Think what you want, I said it's nothing, do whatever you want!' Actually, I really didn't do anything with him, believe it or not?" "Or..." she said, feigning shyness as she lowered her head, a blush creeping onto her face. The flirtation was too obvious, so I had to offer a long, earnest explanation to refuse her. I told her it was entirely for her own good, and she'd understand later. She nodded amicably, and I walked her all the way to the subway station before going home. I'm not a saint, but I have my principles. These girls are undeniably alluring, especially the thrill of deflowering a virgin—it's incredibly satisfying for a man. However, I'm a high-ranking executive in the company, and I would never gamble with my future. If I got involved in these things, it would inevitably get out, and these days, who knows what girls are really up to? It could very well backfire. Like that self-proclaimed virgin—even if she were, her cunt had probably been touched by countless men. At most, she was a biological virgin, not some innocent young girl. Those kinds of people are the most dangerous. Even if I don't find someone I'm compatible with, I'd rather find someone with whom I have no mutual desire, and then part ways amicably. Days passed, and the weather quickly turned chilly, soon entering early winter. The Tianjin branch was holding a client meeting, requiring a speech from head office leaders to demonstrate the importance they placed on the Tianjin clients. I readily agreed. Since I needed to inspect the work afterwards, I didn't want to use the branch's company car, so I brought my own. The meeting went very well. After lunch, my driver and I went to get a comprehensive understanding of the situation, leaving only one salesperson to lead the way, while the rest of us went about our own business. After visiting over a dozen companies, I felt there was no need to go any further, so I sent the salesperson back and headed straight back to Beijing. I'd drunk a bit too much at lunch and felt a little dizzy, so I pulled out my PDA and read two English erotic novels.I always like to download things in English, partly to practice my English, and partly to avoid any inappropriateness if others see Chinese content. As I was looking at it, I felt some liquid seeping out, a bloated, uncomfortable feeling. I put away my PDA, rubbed my tired eyes, and, overcome with drowsiness, lay down on the back seat and fell asleep. As I slept, I felt the car start and stop intermittently. I opened my eyes and saw that we had reached the end of the highway. It was the weekend, and there were many cars, so there was a long line of traffic. It was almost six o'clock, and I still didn't know where to have dinner. I suddenly remembered that my junior classmate had bought a house nearby, so I called her. She was indeed home, so I told the driver to take me there. My junior classmate was two years younger than me, and we didn't have the same boss, just the same major. I was in my final year at the university when she entered. She was admitted directly from the first year of high school, looking very young, and spoke softly. Because of our different personalities and the fact that we were two years apart in graduating classes, our interactions were limited to department meetings and activities—just nodding acquaintances. What truly brought us closer was my wife. When my wife (my then-girlfriend) came to visit, finding her a place to stay was always a hassle. The girls in my class (of the same year) were all rather strange; the few who were easy to get along with would either go home to their husbands or boyfriends on weekends. Luckily, I usually enjoyed helping others (my wife said I was a natural womanizer and forbade me from being nice to girls), so I'd fix their headphones, Walkmans, lamps, electric kettles, electric stoves, install sockets, run electrical wires, and so on. Therefore, I was fairly popular, and no one would refuse to stay in any room I knocked on. However, after a few stays, my wife didn't want to stay anymore because those people weren't very enthusiastic. When she arrived at night, they would just point out which bed to take and then barely talk, just reading by themselves—it was very boring. In the morning, they would just give a perfunctory greeting. Actually, for them, that was already considered a courtesy. One time, we came back from a movie late, and several rooms were dark. We were wandering around the hallway when we suddenly saw our junior classmate coming out of the bathroom. We asked her what was wrong, and she warmly said it was no problem. She was the only one in the room; everyone else was out and about and rarely stayed in the dorms on weekends. The next day, my wife saw me and praised our junior classmate highly, saying she was understanding, gentle, and lovely, and even tried her best to introduce her to a boyfriend. I asked my wife what was so special about her, and she said that our junior classmate let her use her basin to wash, which is something girls usually dislike. The two of them talked until midnight, and the next morning, our junior classmate got up early to prepare breakfast for her. From then on, whenever my wife came to visit, she only stayed at our junior classmate's place and never went anywhere else. I also gradually became familiar with our junior classmate, and I even invited her to a couple of gatherings. These gatherings were basically just men and women getting together, buying groceries, cooking, buying some alcohol, eating and drinking, and playing cards. But my junior classmate couldn't drink, couldn't sing, couldn't tell jokes, and couldn't play cards. At these times, she would always sit forlornly in a corner, only feeling less lonely when my wife was around. I felt sorry for her. She did enjoy these scenes, but I was afraid of spoiling everyone's fun, so I rarely approached her. A classmate of mine had a crush on her and begged me to talk to her, since my wife wasn't familiar with that classmate, so I had to do it myself. As soon as I finished speaking, my junior classmate flatly refused, which surprised me, as she was always indecisive. I listed all the good qualities of that person, but my junior classmate remained silent. Finally, I asked her, "What kind of person do you want?" She hesitated for a long time before finally saying, "At least someone like my senior." From then on, I never mentioned this matter again, nor did I ever discuss it with my wife. After graduation, my junior classmate stayed at the university, which was a good fit for her. My junior colleague often came to our house while I was at work, chatting with my wife for hours until I finished get off work, then went back to her dorm. So, after graduation, I hardly saw her. Sometimes she'd come in the morning, and by lunchtime, they'd both finish the leftovers from the previous day, praising my cooking and saying my wife was lucky. She'd then take a nap at my house until 4 or 5 pm. Once, I went to visit a client, and since it wasn't far from home, I went straight home. That day, I don't know why, maybe I was bursting to pee, my crotch was bulging, and I really wanted to have sex. I opened the door and went straight to the toilet. Since it's just the two of us, we never close the door when we pee. Because my penis was erect, I had to bend over to pee into the toilet. While I was peeing, I heard a shuffling sound. I thought it was my wife waking up, so I didn't look. When she was almost at the door, I said, "Wait a minute, almost done, look how hard it is." But the figure quickly disappeared, which I found very strange. After I finished urinating, I returned to the bedroom and saw my wife lying on her side. Thinking she was pretending to be asleep, I took off my pants and shirt, reached into her pajamas, and grabbed her breast. My wife groggily opened her eyes: "Ah! What time is it? Why are you back so early? Did Junior Sister leave?" Only then did I realize that the person from earlier must have been Junior Sister. Because I get up early, I never make the bed, and my wife usually doesn't either; the sheets are just spread out on the bed, so it's impossible to tell anyone had slept there. Junior Sister must have seen everything, because there's a nearly two-meter-long passageway outside our bathroom. Junior Sister must have walked to the door in her sleep, heard me speak, saw my comical appearance, and also saw my erect penis. I put my clothes back on and went to another room. Junior Sister was indeed there. When she saw me, she blushed and lowered her head. I didn't say anything, just made a "please" gesture. She lowered her head and quickly rushed out of the room to the bathroom. After using the restroom, she insisted on leaving despite our desperate attempts to persuade her to stay. She still came to our house as usual, but we never saw her again. Later, a boy pursued her relentlessly, and she couldn't resist, so she got married. My junior colleague has really had a tough time. After marriage, her husband was stationed in another city and rarely came home. She became pregnant not long after the wedding, but because they had sex after drinking, and she had taken medication for a cold before getting pregnant, she consulted a doctor and my wife, and ultimately had an abortion. After my wife gave birth, she brought a lot of things to visit, but then she rarely came anymore. More than six months after the miscarriage, she's pregnant again, probably six or seven months along. It seems they haven't enjoyed much intimacy in their year-plus of marriage. Passing a pharmacy, I got out and bought two bottles of "Centrum Multivitamin" to supplement my junior colleague's vitamins; she'll need it sooner or later anyway. In my haste, this was the only thing I could buy, otherwise, it would be difficult to find a gift for our first meeting. The car quickly arrived at my junior colleague's apartment complex. The complex was still quite desolate, with only a few service facilities, but there was a large supermarket not far away. Setting up such a large supermarket in a newly developed area required a certain amount of courage. I saw my junior colleague standing at the entrance of the complex, heavily pregnant. I got out of the car, sent the driver back to the company, and went with her to her home. She had bought a spacious three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment. Her father had moved back home because he couldn't get used to living there; he had been sick a few days ago, and her mother had also temporarily gone back to take care of him for a couple of days. Her younger brother sometimes came over, but it was inconvenient for him because he lived in Qinghe. We chatted for a while, and suddenly we heard the prelude to the evening news—it was already seven o'clock—so I said, "Let's go, it's time to eat." My junior colleague said, "There's not much good food downstairs, only a hot pot restaurant that's okay." I was shocked: "How can you still eat hot pot?" My junior colleague asked, puzzled, "What's wrong with hot pot?" I told her that pregnant women shouldn't eat hot pot, as it might affect the fetus. I said, "Forget it, let's just buy some groceries and cook ourselves." My junior sister said, "We don't have much food at home, where are we going to buy it so late? Besides, what time will it take to cook?" I confidently said, "I promise you'll have dinner before 7:45." When I got to the kitchen, I only found two tomatoes and two potatoes. I said to my junior sister, "You stretch your legs, boil some water, wash the tomatoes, chop them into small pieces, peel a scallion, and start cooking the rice. Wait for me." I asked for the bicycle keys, inquired about the bike, went downstairs, and rode straight to the supermarket. The supermarket was indeed quite large, with everything imaginable. It was close to closing time, so there were discounted items everywhere. I picked out a piece of braised beef, grabbed a bag of bean sprouts, a box of ginger, and some peanuts that looked good, so I took a bag of those too. There were only two Wuchang fish left, so I took one at a 30% discount, and also grabbed a bunch of wood ear fungus and a bunch of wormwood stalks. When I got back, my junior sister had already started cooking the rice and boiled the water. I washed the peanuts and gently roasted them in a wok. I prepared the Wuchang fish, and by then the rice was ready. I steamed the fish and then washed the vegetables. The peanuts were almost cooked, so I added a little oil, tossed them a few times, and took them out of the wok. Then I stir-fried the tomatoes, added water, and poured it into a soup pot. By then the rice was cooked, so I stir-fried some watercress. My junior colleague watched me work methodically, occasionally helping out. Before long, a plate of fried peanuts, braised beef, cold bean sprouts, stir-fried watercress, tomato and wood ear mushroom soup, and steamed Wuchang fish were on the table. I checked my watch; it was 7:45. My junior colleague said sincerely, "You're amazing! I couldn't finish this in two hours." I said smugly, "Everything needs a plan. With a plan, nothing is a problem. It's a bit rushed today, so let's just eat as is." Sitting down, my junior colleague suddenly asked, "Want some wine? What kind?" I said baijiu (Chinese liquor), and she brought it over.There was a bottle of Fenjiu liquor and a bottle of dry red wine, along with two glasses. I was surprised: "You're still drinking?" My junior sister said, "Just a little, no problem." The Fenjiu was brought from home by her father; it was in a porcelain bottle and had been aged for over ten years, making it very refreshing. My junior sister praised each dish she ate, and the two of them finished everything. She probably ate more than I did, as I drank about seven liang (approximately 350ml) of liquor and a glass of dry red wine. My junior sister only drank a little red wine. After clearing the table, I washed the dishes and returned to the living room. My junior sister had already made tea. I sat on the sofa, feeling a bit dizzy because the aftereffects of the Fenjiu were kicking in. My junior sister sat down on the sofa, then stood up, rubbing her stomach, and said, "I ate too much, too much. It's all your fault; you cooked so deliciously that I ate too much. Can you come for a walk with me?" I was also trying to sober up, so I went out with her. The streetlights in the neighborhood weren't on yet, but the moon was beautiful, round and large, probably around the fifteenth of the lunar month. We walked slowly, saying nothing. A young couple walked by from the opposite direction; they must have finished their walk and were heading home. The wife was heavily pregnant, probably seven or eight months along, and she was holding her husband's arm, clinging tightly to him. I noticed my junior colleague's gaze was fixed on them until they went into the building. A gust of wind blew by; the early winter wind was already a bit chilly. My junior colleague couldn't help but snuggle closer to me. I reached out and gently put my arm around her, then let go. But she took my arm, and we walked slowly and silently. Back inside, it was almost ten o'clock, and I had to go home. My junior colleague said, "There are no taxis now. A taxi will cost at least 40 yuan, and you'll have to walk to the Fourth Ring Road and wait for ages to get one. Why don't you stay here tonight? I can ask you more questions." I thought about it and agreed. My junior colleague found me a set of pajamas, saying they belonged to her father, and told me to go take a shower. After showering, I smelled my underwear and it already smelled bad, so I just put on the pajamas. When I returned to the living room, my junior colleague had already made up the guest room for me to sleep in. I told her to go shower and I sat on the sofa watching TV. A long time passed before she came out; it turned out she had also washed her hair. She said, "My hair won't be dry for a while. If you're not sleepy, chat with me for a bit." I didn't have anything planned for tomorrow anyway, so I chatted with her. I sat on the sofa, and she sat in a chair. We chatted about this and that, but we didn't really have much in common; it was mostly about pregnancy and children. When I learned that she rarely took vitamins and folic acid, I got a little worried: "How can you be so careless? I think you're worse than a country bumpkin." She wasn't angry; instead, she said sincerely, "Senior, you guys know so much, how come I know nothing?" Nobody told me what to eat or not to eat. We ate hot pot so many times after I got pregnant! We went whenever we were too lazy to cook, and now I regret it so much! "Senior, I want to ask you, is there any way to get rid of these stretch marks? They're so ugly!" I said, "As long as you keep applying vitamin E ointment to improve skin elasticity, you can alleviate the symptoms." She said, "Can I still recover now?" Saying this, she stood up and lifted her pajamas. I saw that her belly was very large, her skin had been stretched so much it had cracked, and the stretch marks were wide and deep. Because her pajamas couldn't cover her belly, they slipped down to her lower abdomen, probably just above her pubic hair, and her belly button was protruding. I said to her, "First, junior sister, it's stretched like this, it's probably going to be tough. It should be fine after a year or so after giving birth; second, your belly button is protruding, so it's probably a boy; third..." Junior sister asked anxiously, "Tell me! Tell me! What is it?" I gritted my teeth: "Third, it's getting cold now, you should protect your belly and prevent the fetus from feeling the cold outside. Wear maternity underwear." "Maternity underwear? What's that? I've never heard of it." I told her that maternity underwear has a long crotch that can be pulled up to the belly to protect the abdomen. She immediately said: "Really? You must come with me to buy it tomorrow." She then asked: "Do you also have maternity bras?" I said: "Of course, but if your old ones still work, you don't necessarily have to buy them. They're very expensive, over two hundred." My junior sister is very meticulous, she definitely wouldn't buy a bra that costs over two hundred. She said: "Then how about this one?" As she spoke, she lifted up her pajamas completely. When I saw it, my lower body immediately felt like it was on fire, and I instantly got hard, because my junior sister's bra was too small, only barely accommodating half of her breasts. Due to the previous activity, her left nipple had already popped out. I hadn't seen a woman's body in a long time, so this was a natural physiological reaction. I had my hands behind my head, leaning against the sofa, and since I wasn't wearing underwear, my erection was very obvious. I immediately changed my posture, leaning forward. As soon as I lifted my clothes, I felt a chill, so she immediately knew and quickly put her pajamas down. She must have seen my erection too, because people are very sensitive to moving objects. We were silent for about a minute. To break the awkward silence, I spoke first: "I won't say whether we should have bought them or not. Your sister-in-law often did this too, so we gritted our teeth and spent over five hundred to buy two, but now they're completely useless, and we can't even give them away. Besides,..." I hesitated again. My junior sister also calmed down and said: "Senior brother, we're discussing scientific issues here. If you have any advice, please don't hold back, just say it." With her encouragement, I felt much more relaxed, so I spoke frankly: "Actually, the bra isn't the most important problem. You have another big issue: your nipples are severely inverted. If you don't address it, it will cause a major problem for your baby when breastfeeding, and it might even bleed." My junior colleague said, "I've read about it in books, and sometimes I've tried pulling on them and wiping them with a towel, but it hurts so much." I said, "If you're afraid of the pain now, what if your baby sucks and the nipples break open, and just as they scab over, you still have to breastfeed? They'll break open again, and you can't stop, so it'll never heal properly, and it might even lead to mastitis. Both you and your baby will suffer then. It's better to endure the pain now than later." My junior colleague said, "I will definitely persevere. Thank you for your advice." After a pause, she asked again, "Isn't there a good way that isn't too painful but can still be fixed?" I smiled mysteriously and didn't answer. My junior colleague got impatient, sat down next to me, and shook my arm: "Tell me, tell me! It's so boring, you always hold back." I said, "It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's just that you won't need it, and there are side effects." My junior colleague said, "Whether I need it or not, just consider it an opportunity to learn something, okay?" I said, "It's very simple, just practice the baby's breastfeeding movements beforehand." My junior colleague was a bit slow-witted and didn't react immediately: "What? How do I practice?" I said, "Just let someone suckle your milk every day. Over time, it will have a better effect than a towel, right? And it will also draw out the nipple, keeping the milk ducts clear. Besides, it's comfortable to suckle." My junior colleague understood; only her husband could suckle her nipple, not even her mother. She asked again, "What about the side effects?" I really couldn't do anything with her, and replied, "What side effects do you think there could be? Won't problems arise after a while?" Seeing my mischievous smile, my junior colleague finally understood what the problem was and didn't ask any more questions. After thinking for a moment, she asked again, "Did you and your sister-in-law have any problems? People say you can't do that during pregnancy. We've never done it since I got pregnant." I smiled and said, "That's human instinct, let nature take its course. You have to suckle every day, but you can't have sex every day, right?" My junior sister said, "You didn't have any problems? You can still do that during pregnancy?" I saw that my junior sister's face was flushed, and I guessed that she was already feeling the heat of the moment. It must have been really tough for her not to have sex for more than half a year. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head: why don't I try to sleep with her? With that thought, I relaxed, resumed my supine position, and said, "Actually, I think the happiest time for a couple is during the months of pregnancy, especially after five or six months." You see, being newly married is wonderful, but in that state of confusion, you can't let go completely; after a while, you're afraid of getting pregnant, so you're always hesitant; and at least once a month you can't have sex because of your period; only these few months are different – you're not afraid of getting pregnant, and you don't have your period, so every week is the same; besides, after getting pregnant, your libido is good, and you have more lubrication, making penetration particularly smooth and easier to reach orgasm. Junior sister, can you feel it?" My junior sister was getting restless on the sofa, her voice trembling slightly: "But isn't your belly pressing down?" I couldn't help but laugh and said, "Don't be so old-fashioned. Humans can be face-to-face, so they're not animals; but you can't lose your animal instincts. You can come from behind, you can lick with your mouth, you can touch with your hands. Actually, coming from behind is very comfortable, don't you want to try? Your sister-in-law and I have almost never stopped, except the day before her checkup. The day before she was hospitalized, we even had sex once late and once early." For months we've been coming from behind, and now I always ejaculate from behind last. She says it goes in deeper that way, and it's more powerful when I ejaculate. At this point, my junior sister was completely limp on top of me, her face almost pressed against my bulge. I helped her up, wrapped my left arm around her neck, and kissed her lips. My right hand reached under her nightgown and gently unhooked her bra. Under my passionate kisses, she was too numb to think. I gently blew into her ear and said, "Junior sister, let me suck you, okay?" It was the word "junior sister" that reminded her…She pushed me away abruptly, saying, "I can't betray my sister-in-law." I pulled her close again, saying, "We haven't had sex in months, it'd be good to satisfy each other. Besides, I like you, little sister." This was pure nonsense, but it worked. She threw herself into my arms, saying, "I've always liked you, but I never had the chance. I've always wanted to find someone like you, but I can never find one. I'm really jealous of my sister-in-law. I like you, that's why I always deliberately avoid you, you know that?" I kissed away her tears, comforting her constantly, and helped her to the bedroom. I helped her sit down on the edge of the bed, supporting her neck with my right hand and gently laying her down. My left hand took the opportunity to touch her crotch; her pajama bottoms were already soaked with a patch the size of my palm, and I could feel the heat even through two layers of fabric. I pushed her to lie on her right side to make her more comfortable. You know, with thirty or forty pounds of weight on her stomach, lying on her back is quite uncomfortable. As I kissed her, I unbuttoned her pajamas one button at a time. Once unbuttoned, I pulled the corner of the blanket over her stomach to keep her warm, then pulled down her bra and began kissing her breasts and nipples. My junior's breasts weren't large to begin with, but they were full after pregnancy, though her nipples remained small, rosy, like a little girl's. Her nipples were slightly inverted, and I swirled my tongue around them, occasionally sucking on them. Soon, she let out a moan. My left hand slipped inside her panties, gently tugging at her pubic hair, then slowly moved down, pausing at her mons pubis before turning back. I ran my hand slowly along her buttocks, gently pressing down to encourage her to lift her buttocks, easily pulling her pajama bottoms and underwear down to her thighs. I didn't rush to attack her genitals, but instead slowly and repeatedly caressed her tailbone, groin, anus, and perineum, while gently rubbing her right nipple with my right hand and kissing her ears and neck. Occasionally, I would dab a little sticky fluid from her vulva and smear it on her perineum and anus. My junior sister, probably never having experienced such foreplay before, kept moaning. Finally, she couldn't hold back any longer and said shyly, "Come in." I feigned ignorance: "Into where?" My junior sister covered her face with her hands and said softly, "Inside." I pressed further: "Where?" My junior sister could only say, "Inside your vagina." Hearing such a crude word from my junior sister's mouth felt a little strange, but it was understandable. She was such an innocent person; she probably only knew the words "vagina" and "cunt." Saying "vagina" at this moment would be even more ridiculous. It was truly difficult for my junior sister. I immediately inserted my ring finger into my junior sister's hot, slippery cave, my middle finger stroking between her clitoris and labia minora, and my thumb resting on her anus and perineum. My junior sister's vaginal walls were relatively smooth and tender, unlike some people's which were bumpy inside. Because she was lying on her back, my fingers could only stroke the back wall of her vagina, unable to reach her clitoris. My junior sister kept twisting her body, crying out, "No, no, it's not a hand." I deliberately asked, "Then what is it?" My junior sister turned around and lightly slapped my crotch with her hand, "You bad boy! It's your...penis." She blushed again after saying that. I helped my junior sister sit up, took off her pajamas and bra, laid her down, pulled the blanket over her upper body, got out of bed, and took off her pajama bottoms and underwear, spreading her thighs: my junior sister's pubic hair was very sparse and pale, slightly yellowish, somewhat like her head hair. Her armpit hair was also very sparse and light. Some people have little armpit hair but thick pubic hair, while others have heavy armpit hair and even heavier pubic hair. I've never seen anyone with sparse pubic hair like my junior sister before. What's even more peculiar is her vulva: her labia majora are not thick, just two narrow bulges, slightly open at this moment; her labia minora are very small, I could feel it when I touched them earlier, and I was still a little surprised. Although her labia minora are very swollen, they still cannot extend outside the labia majora, unlike most people whose labia minora always show a little bit. I reached out and separated them, and her labia minora were extremely tender, of course pink inside, and the tips and outside were also flesh-colored and reddish, unlike adults who are generally brown or even black. (As an aside, the color of the labia minora has absolutely nothing to do with the number of times you have sex, it's only related to development. My first girlfriend's labia minora were brown, and she was only nineteen years old that year -- see "Youthful Memories (2)"). Her labia minora had very few folds, making her look like a young girl. Her clitoris was also small, just a small bump the size of a mung bean at the top of her vulva. I pushed the surrounding skin up, revealing the clitoral glans, which was almost bright red. I couldn't resist sticking out my tongue and gently licking it. My junior sister trembled all over, clearly she rarely experienced stimulation. I went to the bedside, turned on the bedside lamp, dimmed it to its lowest setting, and then turned off the ceiling light. I got into bed, helped my junior sister sit up, and positioned her feet towards the headboard and head towards the footboard, so that her vulva could be illuminated without being too bright. My junior sister was still lying on her side. I had her straighten one leg and bend the other, and then I knelt between her legs to savor this rare, tender opening. It wasn't that I didn't want to penetrate her, but because I hadn't had sex for many days, once I entered her vagina, the heat and the wetness would surely prevent me from lasting more than three minutes. My junior sister was currently in the throes of passion, and if she didn't reach orgasm, it would be like throwing her into a living hell. Although it was understandable in theory, it was physically very uncomfortable. "If offering alms to a monk doesn't satisfy his hunger, it's better to bury him alive." My junior sister's physical condition doesn't allow for two consecutive sessions, and besides, the interval between my erections is at least two or three hours, so I must succeed this time. Although my junior sister asked me to enter, I knew she was far from reaching her peak; she was definitely someone who came very slowly. Therefore, I could only satisfy my own desires by giving her ample foreplay, including oral and manual stimulation, to bring her to heaven. Although I don't like sucking on the genitals of other women except for my first love and wife, I felt no disgust towards such a seductive vulva. I couldn't help but suck on her thin labia, occasionally flicking my tongue across her clitoris. I inserted my left middle finger into her vagina, slowly searching for her clitoris. Finally, I found it; her clitoris was located quite deep, just within reach of my fingertip. I used both my hands and mouth, and my junior sister writhed incessantly, panting heavily, her chest emitting low growls like a wild beast. Suddenly, she straightened her legs, tightly clamping my hand between them, her body convulsing back and forth. I knew she was close to climaxing, so I intensified my movements. Actually, I could only move my fingers; my hand was firmly held, unable to move. My fingers slid back and forth inside her vagina, occasionally touching her clitoris. She was completely overwhelmed, pulling the blanket over her head, gasping for breath. It took her a long time to finally lift the blanket; she was drenched in sweat. I leaned over and kissed her lips with mine, my own lips wet with her juices, and nuzzled her neck with my chin, soaked in her fluids. I whispered, "Was it good?" She said shyly, "Yes! It was...it was so scary, so intense, it felt a little...empty." I took off my pajama bottoms and pajamas, pulling her hand to touch my penis. She immediately pulled her hand away at the slightest touch. I grabbed her hand again: "What are you afraid of? It's not like we've never met before." She remained silent, acknowledging my previous spying. I asked again, "What did you think of it last time? Have you seen anyone else's before?" She said shyly, "I've never seen one before, except when my younger brother was little. You're the first. I thought it was so scary, it was so thick, I was afraid it wouldn't go in." I said, "Can you put it in today?" She nodded. I held my penis in my hand and probed through her buttocks from behind. It was a complete swamp there, slippery everywhere. I carefully held that hot rod and rubbed it along her vulva, from the vaginal opening to the clitoris. If I wasn't careful, the glans would desperately try to penetrate. I did this to whet her appetite and also to numb my glans so as not to ejaculate too early. Her vagina desperately grasped my penis. I saw that the time was right and thrust hard, and it was already inside her. We both let out a satisfied cry at the same time, after all, we hadn't tasted flesh for months. My glans felt a tingling sensation, and I almost ejaculated. I gritted my teeth, focusing on one question, and finally, I felt I had made it through the ordeal. My junior sister suddenly asked, "Is it really okay if it doesn't affect the fetus?" I said, "Don't worry, the uterus is still far away. The uterine contractions during orgasm will help the fetus grow and adapt to the external environment as soon as possible. I'll be careful." She had heard that sex was beneficial and harmless, so she obediently cooperated with me. Although she had never tried this position before, her instincts made her cooperate perfectly. I knew where her clitoris was, so two out of three thrusts were aimed at it, making my junior sister moan softly. I didn't say anything and slowly thrust in and out. After all, the stimulation of the vagina was too intense, and after a few minutes, I couldn't hold on any longer. I thrust a dozen times, and my junior sister cooperated tightly with me. I suddenly pressed against her buttocks, grabbed one breast with my right hand, and pressed her thigh with my left hand. The thick semen that had been accumulating for so long gushed out in spurts. At this moment, my junior sister cried out again. I felt her vagina gripping my penis tightly with each thrust, and the feeling was extremely comfortable. After ejaculating, I fell asleep immediately, probably only for a few minutes, with my penis still inside her. When my penis went soft...The moment it slipped out of her vagina, I'm sure many people know that's the most painful instant. I woke up instantly. She said, "Oh no, quick, get some tissues." Since we were sleeping face down, I quickly got up to get tissues from the bedside table, but it was too late; the sheets were soaked. I used tissues to stop the flow first, then quickly wiped the sheets. After wiping the sheets, I wiped her body; it was all over her thighs. After using countless tissues, I finally finished wiping. She said, "There's still some on my calves." I felt strange, touched them, and sure enough, there was some. That's when I realized that when I got up to get the tissues, some residual semen had dripped onto her legs. We were both sleepy, kissed each other, and drifted off to sleep. The next day, I was busy again, changing clothes, changing sheets, cleaning up the toilet paper scattered on the floor, and taking a shower. During the shower, I inevitably took advantage of the situation and made some advances. Only then did I accompany her to Dongdan to buy clothes. I bought her two bras, three pairs of underwear, and some other necessities; my junior insisted on paying for them herself. From then on, I went to my junior's house every Tuesday or Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night to stay overnight. Sometimes I had to go home on weekend mornings to check in and appease my wife, because I didn't want to be intimate with my wife at my junior's house. Sometimes when her brother came, I had to avoid it for a couple of days, making up for it later. This didn't last long. This continued for over a month. A little over a week before Christmas, I suddenly received a text message from her: "My mom is here." From then on, I never went to her house again. A few days before the Spring Festival, I was on a business trip out of town. One morning, as soon as I turned on my phone, I received a text message: "0:53, male, 3600 grams, natural birth, mother and child safe." The delivery time was a little after 5 o'clock. Good heavens! 7 pounds 2 ounces, a natural birth! I don't know how my little sister's tiny vagina could accommodate such a large baby. During the Lunar New Year, I couldn't visit her because I was still in my postpartum period. After returning to work, I had a lot of work, so I didn't visit her until the baby was almost two months old. I brought some clothes my own child had worn and some baby books. Used clothes are best for babies, and I figured not many people would give books as gifts, so I could choose carefully. Unlike some families who receive a ton of clothes from relatives and friends after a baby is born, but only a few pieces are actually wearable. My gifts are guaranteed to be appreciated and won't be thrown away for a year or two. When I arrived at her house, her mother opened the door. I introduced myself as her classmate. Her mother told me that her husband had left, but was currently being transferred back. She and her daughter were probably sleeping. I chatted casually with her aunt in the living room for a few minutes. Then, my little sister, still sleepy-eyed, came out. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. She asked me to sit down and went to the bathroom. She struggled in the bathroom for a long time before finally emerging. She said to her mother, "Mom, my senior brother and I haven't seen each other in ages. Please buy some nice things to treat him." Her mother immediately went out to buy groceries. We went to the bedroom; the child was sleeping on the big bed, not in a crib. I had come today genuinely to see them, mother and daughter, without any other requests. But she suddenly hugged my waist: "I missed you so much! I missed you so much! Why did it take you so long?" We kissed, and she unbuckled my belt and took off my pants. I took off my sweater, undershirt, and underwear. She was already naked when she crawled into bed, wearing only a bra. I reached down and touched her thighs; they were already soaked. I parted her legs, carefully examined the episiotomy wound, and couldn't help but kiss it again. This time, without her pregnant belly, it was much easier. I used one hand to attack her lower body, and the other hand gently caressed her breasts and nipples through her bra. I knew she didn't take off her bra mainly because she was afraid of bacteria on her nipples affecting breastfeeding, so it was just a superficial approach, but it worked quite well. Soon, she started moaning softly. I got up, leaned over her, kissing her mouth and breasts while directing my already throbbing, burning erection towards her vulva. I wanted to play with her a bit, randomly jabbing my penis, sometimes at her clitoris, sometimes at her labia. The slippery vaginal fluid and the labial groove naturally guided my glans towards her vulva. I would pull upwards or sideways, and my junior sister would involuntarily thrust upwards, chasing after that hot hardness. Several times, my glans was already surrounded by her two small labia, but I pulled it out forcefully. My junior sister couldn't take it anymore, grabbing my buttocks tightly with both hands, and with a thrust, finally pressed my thick penis into her vagina. My junior sister asked softly, "Is it looser after having a child?" Indeed, her pelvis had widened, making her noticeably looser than a few months ago. I reassured her, "It's not loose, it's still as tight as before. It feels so good." My junior sister was relieved. We continued kissing while thrusting forcefully. However, I had to be careful to avoid pressing on her breasts; this position was quite tiring, and her pubic hair had just grown short stubble, which pricked me a little. But it was precisely because of the slight pain that I didn't become overly excited and ejaculate prematurely. I knelt up, held her legs, and thrust in and out. My junior sister hadn't exercised for almost a year, so her waist quickly became weak. I lowered her legs, supported my upper body with my hands, and straddled her legs, making her close her legs and tightly clamp my penis. This position gave me considerable freedom; I could not only move up and down along her vagina, but also make circular movements with my waist, and move my penis back and forth, stimulating her vaginal walls and clitoris. Because of the close contact between our organs, the stimulation was intense. Coupled with the fact that my junior sister had been deprived of nectar for a long time, she quickly reached her climax. She gripped the blanket tightly, held onto my thighs, and vigorously cooperated with me. Suddenly, I felt her vagina contract violently, very strongly, as if someone were forcefully grabbing my penis. I felt a little pain, my mind cleared considerably, and the urge to ejaculate subsided instantly. I simply remained motionless, experiencing the contractions of my vagina. This time, my junior sister's orgasm was intense and prolonged. She didn't speak for a long time, quietly savoring the afterglow. After a long while, she remembered me: "Why didn't you ejaculate?" I said, "Your pubic hair was a little prickly, and besides, you were gripping me so tightly, I couldn't ejaculate." My junior sister closed her eyes in shame, then suddenly opened them and said, "How about we do it from behind?" "Of course I'm willing," I said, gesturing for my junior sister to spread her legs. Then I knelt between her legs, lifted them, brought them together, and lowered them. I then switched to a side-lying position, changing positions without having to pull out. Without the constraint, I could thrust freely, using a five-shallow-one-deep motion, varying the frequency, or changing direction, making my junior sister moan repeatedly. Her cries were too loud, and since she was close to the baby, the child suddenly woke up and started crying loudly. My junior sister quickly patted the baby: "Oh, little baby, don't cry, don't fuss, Mommy and Uncle are doing good deeds, don't cry, don't fuss, go to sleep." The baby didn't listen and continued crying. I instructed her on how to breastfeed. She unhooked her bra, exposed her nipple, and put it in the baby's mouth. The baby stopped crying and began to nurse. I didn't relax at all, and intensified my thrusting, almost penetrating to the deepest point each time. My junior sister moaned passionately again. I felt a tingling sensation in my glans, so I thrust a few more times. My junior sister patted the baby with one hand, breastfeeding while also shaking her buttocks in coordination. My penis suddenly swelled up, and a stream of heat gushed out. At this moment, I heard my junior sister's rapid breathing again and felt my penis being tightly gripped. I violently sprayed my nectar deep into the peach blossom cave again and again.

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