As long as fate continues, so too will sin.

This was my first time cheating, and the beginning of my dissolute years. Before, I never imagined I would do such a thing, but afterwards, I felt it was inevitable, as if preordained. It was a Friday in late July 200x. The long-parched sky was overcast, and my chest felt as heavy as the weather. Around 3 pm, my phone rang. When I answered, a voice, both unfamiliar and familiar, came through. It was F! Seven years. Countless times in my dreams, that sweet voice had echoed, countless times her charming smile had appeared. Although I was now married with children, and the ordinariness of life had diluted much of the pain in my memory, that sweet voice still lingered in my dreams. I hung up, hurriedly asked my supervisor for leave, and headed to the agreed-upon coffee shop. On the way, many questions flooded my mind: Where had she been all these years? Was she alright after seven years? How much had time etched on her face? Is she, still in the bloom of youth, even more captivating than she was seven years ago? What will she say to me today? Should I hug her? Will she cry in front of me? Should I send her off after dinner? Should I book a hotel room or take her home (my wife, a middle school teacher, is taking the children to her hometown for a summer getaway and to visit her parents who miss their grandchildren)? ...At the coffee shop entrance, I saw that familiar figure, still so alluring, though a little heavier than seven years ago, but even more charming. At the same time, I saw more admiration in F's eyes, and also a hint of tears glistening. Perhaps encouraged by this gaze, I stepped forward and gently patted her shoulder: "It's been so many years, you're still so charming." Then I turned and led her, her eyes brimming with tears, to the reserved private room. Having been strangers for so long, the two of us were still slightly awkward after sitting down. Taking the handkerchief I offered to stop her tears, F asked about my current situation and recounted her experiences over the past seven years. Seven years ago, after five years of desperate searching, I ultimately couldn't stop F from leaving. After graduating from junior college, she followed a wealthy man she met during her internship, never returning to the city where we studied together, and I never heard from her again. The following year, I graduated from university, still in this provincial capital to take care of my parents. Three years ago, heartbroken and somewhat numb from F's actions, I was introduced to someone, and everything fell into place. I married my current partner, my company provided us with housing, and we had a lovely daughter the following year. Like the song by Jonathan Lee goes: "I thought life was just like this, my calm heart refused any more waves… But, the threads of love, though severed a thousand times, could not be broken; they circled me through countless twists and turns." Now, F is alive and well again, sitting before me, beautiful and charming. Because of F's appearance, her boss, 17 years her senior, resolutely divorced and married her, and F proudly gave birth to his son. However, his ex-wife's family held considerable power in the area, and after the divorce, his business became increasingly difficult, and his temper worsened. F, feeling depressed, took her son, who was on summer vacation, back to her hometown to clear her head. She obtained my contact information from a classmate and, mustering her courage, came to see me. For two hours, F constantly wiped away tears. Before I knew it, it was pouring rain outside, and it was getting dark. I checked my watch and asked her, "With this weather, you can't make it back, can you? Let me get you a room." "Didn't your wife and child go back to their hometown? Can I go home with you?" F answered cautiously. After a slight pause, I made up my mind and nodded. I held F tightly by the shoulders, and we took a taxi back to my apartment complex. When we got home, we were both soaked to the bone. I dried my head with a towel, then handed my wife two pieces of clothing and told F to go to the bathroom and take a shower first. When I came out after showering, I found F wasn't in the living room. I went into the bedroom, and she, half-lying on the bed, patted the person beside her, gesturing for me to sit down. As soon as I sat down, F wrapped her arms around my neck: "Kiss me!" Faced with this request, seven years too late, I couldn't refuse. Tears streaming down her face, she breathlessly kissed my face and neck: "Do you still hate me?" "No, I still love you, I'll love you forever." I answered without hesitation. "If you love me, you have to have me!" F pulled me down onto her soft body, tearing at each other's clothes. My blood rushed to my head, and I frantically grabbed and kneaded her breasts, spreading her legs with my knees. At this moment, F began to emit low moans like a mother animal in heat. Just as I was about to enter her, I realized my penis showed no sign of engorgement. "You're lying to me, you don't love me?" F gripped my waist with both hands, tears welling up again on her flushed face. "No, I—love—you! It's just that my mind is a mess right now, give me a little time, just a little time." F's sorrow turned to joy, and I lit a cigarette. She lay in my arms, pouring out our mutual longing. I suddenly realized that I hadn't forgotten her at all these years. And she, when life was difficult, often imagined what her life would be like if she hadn't rejected me back then. Seeing me today, after six or seven years of work, my first impression on everyone was one of composure and competence, and she naturally felt a slight pang of regret. Alone in the room, her desire for my body became stronger than ever; after all, her husband was already in his fifties, and she hadn't experienced truly satisfying sex in years. Dinner time passed by unnoticed, and since F couldn't go out with me, I called the restaurant downstairs to deliver a serving of pickled fish, several cold dishes, and two bowls of rice. The downpour outside had suddenly stopped, but even with the air conditioning on, it still felt a bit stuffy. I opened the refrigerator and took out two bottles of beer. Five years of bittersweet love, we'd eaten together countless times, but never had it felt so pleasant and sweet. She wiped her mouth, stretching lazily, "The food here is so delicious! I'm so tired, I just want to sleep in your arms." I tidied up the dishes and, while washing my face and brushing my teeth in the bathroom, thought of the beauty lying on the bed. The alcohol gradually diluted the doubts and struggles in my mind. Relaxing my engorged bladder, I held my engorged penis: What a coward! What's the big deal? You won't be responsible if anything happens! It was dark outside. The 3102 colorful nightlights embedded in the bedroom ceiling and walls cast a faint shadow of the body exposed under the blanket, further arousing me to immerse myself in it, to experience the softness and fragrance I'd imagined for so many years, to explore the warmth and throbbing deep within her body and soul, to satisfy the desires of both body and soul, accompanied by deep disappointment and shallow regret. I pounced on her, and amidst her satisfied yet slightly painful gasp, I thrust in with vigorous force… The sensation beneath me was completely different from when I was with my wife. Every time we made love, we always had ample foreplay. My wife is on the heavier side, so during intercourse, she initially felt wet and soft. With each slow and rapid thrust, the grip of her vaginal walls tightened, finally disappearing as her body trembled and spasmed, and my penis would ejaculate simultaneously, softening along with our bodies. But this tender vagina beneath me, due to insufficient foreplay, felt as tight as a virgin's the moment I entered, and we both felt a painful pleasure. My wife, with her small frame, had gradually become fuller over the years, her skin even whiter and more delicate. The sensation of my penis touching her inside was entirely new, a softness surpassing anything I'd felt before. I couldn't help but stop moving, slowly savoring the tenderness and envelopment my penis felt. Overwhelmed by this impact and fullness, her body trembled, her vaginal walls spasmed, and warm love juice quickly filled our joined parts. After closing her eyes and feeling it for a moment, F lifted her head, grabbed my arms which were supporting her on the bed, and slightly opened her eyes: "I like this feeling, I want you to be powerful on top of me!" Encouraged, I leaned down like a hungry wolf, opening my mouth to nibble and suck on her neck and shoulders, while my lower body pounded into her flower valley as if in revenge. My hands sometimes gripped her waist tightly, sometimes reached under her armpits to cup her buttocks, all to pull her body closer to my penis. At this moment, F,Like a mother wolf attacked, she raised her head and let out a clear howl mixed with pain and pleasure. She twisted her waist, arched her jade-like buttocks, and welcomed my penis's ravaging of her flower valley. Time seemed to stand still at that moment, space seemed to freeze. The entire world, the entire universe, was reduced to the friction and collision of our two bodies, her loud moans and my deep roars… Suddenly, F fell silent, her body limp. The once wet and slippery point of contact suddenly locked tightly, only able to rotate but unable to thrust further. My penis, enveloped in this embrace, finally reached its limit in length, girth, and hardness, firmly pressing against the soft, elusive flesh inside, forcefully ejaculating hot semen. I stubbornly held her buttocks with both hands, my penis ejaculating, as if injecting my soul into this body I had longed for. F let out a final murmur of satisfaction, while the tender flesh of her flower valley continued to spasm, like a small mouth sucking at my penis, which was gradually emptying but still firm. The two lay entangled together for a long time before getting up to shower. Back in bed, F curled up in my arms like a well-fed kitten: "After being a woman for eight years, today I finally know what it means to be in ecstasy, what true love is. If I had known this, I would have died to be your woman." I sighed deeply: "This lovemaking has made me realize that I still can't forget you, I'll never forget you for the rest of my life..." We embraced and wept, then made love passionately again. We didn't wake up until noon the next day. I went to the supermarket and bought some groceries, and F cooked for me. During dinner, she said, "Did we sleep last night? I felt like I was being rubbed by your big hands all night. Then I couldn't tell if I was pinned down or riding on top of you. I was so afraid I'd go crazy." I nonchalantly exhaled a smoke ring: "It wasn't that bad, maybe only four or five times. But as soon as I fall asleep, I dream that you've left me again, and then I wake up in a fright and find you still in my arms. I tell myself I have to possess you..." For the next three days, all we did was talk, kiss, and then make love passionately. I suddenly told F that I wanted to divorce my husband and marry her. At this moment, she became as calm as she had been seven years ago: "You have such a good family now, and your career is on the rise. It's not worth torturing yourself like this. My husband is so much older than me, but he gave me a title, and he's lost so much for me. I've already wronged him terribly. I'm content with these three days with you. I'm going back to help him." We have children now, and we have to think about them. I was furious, but after calming down and thinking about it carefully, I realized she made a lot of sense. To outsiders, I have a very enviable family. My wife, while not as stunningly beautiful as F, is still above average. Moreover, she's virtuous and filial; I really have no reason to file for divorce. After nearly seven years of hard work, I've become indispensable at my company. Now, with the company undergoing transformation, I'm someone the leadership highly values and is actively cultivating. In short, I desperately need stability and can't afford any disruptions. It's Tuesday, time for me to go to work. When I got home that evening, everything was neatly arranged; all the sheets, pillowcases, blankets, etc., were washed. On the bedside table was a note written in red lipstick: "Thank you for the缘分 (fate/destiny), you've let me experience the beauty of being a woman! I love you, I'm willing to be your eternal lover!" ————————————————f. My wife came home on the weekend. That evening, she naturally asked for some tenderness. I turned off the lights and began to move mechanically, as if completing a homework assignment. My wife remained as sensitive and passionate as ever beneath me. Unlike F, my wife's movements were gentle and compliant, her moans of pleasure barely escaping her throat. Unlike F, she didn't shout my name while moving vigorously. After a natural climax, my wife nestled her head on my neck and fell into a sweet sleep, a satisfied smile still on her face. But I couldn't fall asleep for a long time. I knew that from the first few days when I held F in my arms, I had become corrupted, forever unable to return to the good man I once was. I began to take advantage of every business trip to constantly seek excitement, whether it was colleagues, classmates, or online acquaintances. From Sanya to Qiqihar, from the Bohai Bay to Karamay, from those born in the 80s to those born in 1958, as long as there was no health risk, as long as it didn't disrupt the peace of my family, I accepted them all. Every summer, F would take their son back to his hometown as usual, and we would find a suitable opportunity to meet, and then make love wildly in my home or a hotel. Being with her was always so passionate, but after the passion faded, there was only endless emptiness...

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As long as fate continues, so too will sin.

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