My Story of Sexual Passion

My Story of Sexual Passion
After graduating, I was assigned to a state-owned company and worked in an office for a few months. She was my subordinate, and she got the job through her husband's connections. She was the one who greeted me on my first day at the company. It was summer, and she was very beautiful and innocent-looking, seemingly younger than me. My heart skipped a beat; I thought I had to take advantage of being in the same office to get my hands on her—at the time, I didn't know she was married and had a child; I only knew she was three years older than me. That evening, I went for a walk with a new colleague. Our dormitory was in the company compound. I saw her come out of the bathroom after showering; she was slender and graceful, with fair arms and legs, and I was captivated. Later, I learned she was married and had a child, but I was still determined to get her into bed. She had a very outgoing personality and often joked with people in the office. But she and I got along the best. Sometimes she would joke and play around with me, and I would take the opportunity to play around with her in return for physical contact. Later, as we became closer, when no one else was in the office, she would talk to me about her marriage, saying that she and her husband had long since lost feelings for each other, except for their child. She was young when she got married, only in her early twenties, while her husband was almost 30; they rushed into marriage. Her child was already five years old. She said that a few days after the wedding, her husband went out and didn't come home until after 2 AM. When he knocked on the door, she was still awake. After opening the door, she slapped him and left. From then on, they barely spoke to each other at home. I took the opportunity to ask, "So you don't have much of a sex life?" She said yes, but he always initiated it; she usually refused, sometimes just going through the motions. I pressed on, asking if she had ever experienced an orgasm. She said no, never. We often spent time together, and we talked about her relationships and family. She later said she didn't know why she suddenly wanted to tell me these things. One morning, it was autumn, but she was still wearing a skirt. It was just the two of us in the office. She invited me to the courtyard to sunbathe. We took newspapers, and she sat on the ground opposite me. I secretly peeked at what was under her skirt; I could see her underwear clearly, but she didn't notice. Sometimes, when she talked about her relationship with her husband, she would shed a few tears. But she was, after all, a married woman, so I didn't dare to be too forward. Then someone else appeared, a woman from another department. On the surface, we were very close; the women in the company often hung out together. But privately, she told me that this woman's relationship with her husband was even worse, and that she had many men outside the marriage. I said, "You might be like that too," and she laughed, saying, "I don't want to." She also said that she had secretly discovered that this woman and her husband were also having an affair; everyone knew, but no one said it outright. Perhaps because of this relationship, that woman always tried to bring us together, probably for psychological balance, and also so that she wouldn't have to be so secretive about her relationship with her husband later. She always said they were like my sisters. One night, after nine o'clock, she called, saying that my sister—the one from my office—was in a bad mood and wanted to drink, but the two women couldn't go alone, so she asked me to go with her. I went, but the one I was pursuing drank a beer and started crying. We comforted her, and I didn't know exactly why, but I knew it was definitely about her and her husband. Later, we went back to the company dormitory. The woman went home, and on the way, I said, "You didn't drink much today. I'll treat you to a good drink next time to cheer you up." She agreed. Later, the weather got quite cold, so I took her to a place far away to drink, thinking that this way her husband wouldn't have a good chance of finding her when he got home. Not long after we started drinking, she started crying again. I sat down next to her, held her hand, and stroked it. Her thumb moved against the back of my hand. Oh, and before the second drinking session, I tested her a bit. One day, she was wearing very red lipstick, and I pulled her close and forced her to kiss me on the cheek, saying, "Let your husband see that you're having an affair." She just laughed and said, "I won't believe you if you do that." That day, after drinking, on the way home, I took her to a quiet, deserted path, hugged her, and told her I'd always liked her. She seemed a little flustered, just listening to me. She let me kiss her, but wouldn't let me touch her breasts, not even through her clothes. We chatted outside until late. When we got back, she went to her room. Her husband was still looking for her outside. When he came to me and asked, I told him that she had asked me to go drinking—we had arranged it beforehand. After that, when no one was in the office, I often kissed her. But she never let me go any further. Until Christmas Eve, her husband had other plans, so I asked her to come to my room that night to help me with the blankets. I said this publicly in the office, just in case someone came looking for her that night. When she came, I said I didn't have anything else to do, I just missed her, and then I kissed her. She let me put my hand inside her clothes behind her back to touch her, but she wouldn't let me unhook her bra. I stroked her buttocks through her skirt. Because she kept saying she wouldn't have sex with me, I jokingly picked her up and carried her to the bed, saying I was going to get hard. She laughed and said no, but she wasn't as strong as me and couldn't struggle. I was too hasty and slammed her head against the wall. I panicked and rubbed it for her. I originally wanted to have sex with her then and there, but it wouldn't have been good in that situation. Later, her husband called from a disco, inviting us to hang out—we had a good relationship, that's how it is in state-owned enterprises. At the disco, I asked her to dance a slow dance, and I secretly touched her. On the way back, the car was crowded; her husband sat in the front, and we squeezed into the back, close together. I secretly held her hand and stroked her incredibly supple, virgin-like legs. A few days later, around New Year's Day, a large group of us were drinking together. Afterwards, her husband got a call at the company, so I invited her to my room, knowing she was in a bad mood that day. When she came, I closed the door, hugged and kissed her, and asked if I could touch her breasts. She nodded, but said only there. I reached under her clothes and touched them; they were small, very fun. I touched them for a while, but at that time I didn't know how to arouse a woman. Later, she asked me to come out. As I moved my hand down, just before pulling it out, I suddenly slipped it inside her panties and touched her there. It didn't seem very wet; it was flat and tender. When I inserted my finger, it felt tight, really like clam meat. Looking back on my experience, I realized that those were the labia of someone who hadn't had much sex. Seeing that I had touched her, she accepted it. I touched her for a while longer, even inserting my finger inside her. Later, she said it had taken too long and she had to leave. After that, when no one was in the office, I often touched her there, but I never found an opportunity to go further. It wasn't until that day, on International Women's Day the following year, in the countryside, that I finally got around to it. I had already arranged to switch jobs, and her husband happened to be away on a business trip. After dinner, I went to her room, got intimate with her, and then said that people were always coming to her room and it wasn't safe, so I went to my room. Once inside, I didn't turn on the light, locked the door, and asked her to have sex. She refused, so I kissed her, touched her, and then put my hand inside her pants to touch her private parts—she was indeed somewhat frigid, and no matter how I touched her there, she wasn't very aroused. Only once before the Lunar New Year, when I touched her in the office, she later said that she had very bad thoughts at the time. I asked her what they were, and after a long pause, she blushed and said she wanted to sleep with me. I said okay, but she said no. From then on, I knew that once a woman has been touched in that area, she won't refuse to be touched again. Therefore, I thought that sex should be the same; you have to muster up the courage and find the opportunity. Anyway, on that night of International Women's Day, regardless of whether she agreed or not, I picked her up and laid her horizontally on my bed, and started to undress her. She wouldn't let me, so I put her legs on my shoulders—even though I was still a virgin, I had some basic sex knowledge. As soon as I put her legs on my shoulders, she stopped resisting, but wouldn't let me take off all my clothes. So I pulled her pants down halfway, exposing her entire vulva. I took off my pants too, and tried to penetrate her. I was already quite hard, but I was too nervous and didn't know where to insert it. It was too dark, I couldn't see, and my nervousness made me go soft again. She laughed. I leaned down and kissed her there for a long time, until she was a little wet, and then I finally entered her. The first time felt amazing! I used this position for my first time, thrusting in and out, and for some reason, I remained hard without ejaculating. At first, she was dry inside, and the movements were a little clumsy, but then it gradually became smoother. She slowly began to get aroused, suppressing her breathing, and tightly gripping my hands as I supported myself on the bed. In that position, air would get in, and I could hear her vagina making popping sounds as I thrust in and out. That feeling of holding my breath in the dark, with only the faint sound of my thrusts inside her, the slippery yet slightly resistant sensation of friction against her—for someone like me, making love for the first time, it was indescribable. We both reached orgasm simultaneously. After I ejaculated, I asked her if she believed I was a virgin now. She smiled and nodded in the darkness. I kissed her again, but she insisted on going back to her room. I had told her before that I had never done it, but she didn't believe me, saying that I looked like I should have had many girls in school. She only believed me after that night. She is indeed somewhat frigid. I've done it with her five times in total, and it seems to take a long time for her to orgasm. Of course, it's also because she doesn't know how to do it, and I know even less, so it's always a bit clumsy. But the feeling of having an affair is really good, very exciting.We didn't have many opportunities. We worked at the same company and lived in the company dormitory on the same floor. I forget the second time, but it was about a week or two later. I asked her out while I was at work, and we did it in my room. She was like a virgin, completely clueless. Because she was very tight, I always put her legs on my shoulders when I entered, explaining to her that it was easier to penetrate and that it went in deeper. She innocently asked me why. After I left the company, I asked her out again, almost six months later, in a hotel. Later, I went to work in Shenzhen, and we gradually lost contact because she never had a cell phone or pager, while mine changed several times. After I returned to Beijing, I called a friend from that company, but because our relationship was very secretive and she had a husband, I didn't want to ask anyone about her. One time, she happened to be there, and my friend, knowing we used to work in the same office and had a good relationship, asked her to tell me. That's when I found out she had also resigned. I got her number, thinking I had another chance. This time, I was confident I could give her an orgasm. Unexpectedly, when I called at the agreed time, her husband answered. I didn't dare speak; he recognized my voice and hung up. The next few times I called, a man answered each time, and I didn't feel comfortable saying anything. Then the phone stopped working altogether. I don't know what happened. Now, all my friends at that company have been transferred—some resigned, some were promoted to higher positions. I know they can't possibly contact her; asking is pointless. Actually, I have her husband's phone number, so I could call him, but I can't call him. What reason would I have to contact his wife? So I can't get in touch with her. I've always regretted it. I also blame her. During that call, I offered her my phone number, but she said she didn't have a pen and couldn't remember. Anyway, I had her number, so I just called at the agreed time, and she could write it down. Who knew it would turn out like this? Since her, I've had many girlfriends and several sexual partners. I've become quite skilled in bed, able to thrust continuously for two or three hours without ejaculating, bringing my partner to orgasm eight times in a row. I haven't had a partner for sex yet, but the memories with her are the most unforgettable. Perhaps it's because it was my first time, and I always regret not being able to contact her. I've always kept this a secret in the deepest part of my heart, something I never intended to tell anyone again. But by chance, I came across this website for the first time and saw so many like-minded people here. I don't know why I couldn't help but tell you, and in such detail at that. Actually, my intention was to share my passionate sexual stories, which to others might not seem very passionate at all. But I'm already very tired from typing so much. I'll talk about my passionate stories with other women another time.

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My Story of Sexual Passion

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