After getting off the bus

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When the ticket seller announced Baiyun Residential Area Station, I stood up and said to him, "You can stay seated. I'm getting off here
."
He hesitated for a moment and said, "I'm getting off here too."
As he spoke, he made way for me, shouting, "Excuse me, excuse me."
After he got off the bus, I said to him, "Thank you for giving me your seat."
He said, "That guy was really annoying. If it weren't for the crowd on the bus, I would have punched him already. It's just that he
got off early. If you hadn't still been on the bus, I would have followed him off and beaten that bastard to death."
It turned out he had seen everything. My face turned red, and I didn't know what to say.
He noticed my embarrassment and lowered his head, remaining silent.
I said, "Why are you standing in the sun like an idiot? Go talk under the shade of a tree—by the way, do you
live around here too?"
He said, "No, I live in Qilidian."
As soon as he said it, he seemed to realize he had said something wrong, and awkwardly gripped his wrist, twisting it back and forth nervously.
I said, "Oh, you're still a long way off, two stops away. Why did you get off so early?"
He suddenly stared at me intently. "I was worried someone might bully you."
Now it was my turn to avoid his eyes. "Okay, let's not talk about those annoying things. How about coming to my place
for a while?"
As soon as I said it, I regretted it. It was just a polite remark, the subtext being goodbye. I didn't
expect him to immediately say, "Sure."
I hesitated for a moment, thinking about how to refuse him, but seeing his sincere and eager eyes, the words that were on the tip of my tongue
changed. "Okay, then I'll go home first. You can come by yourself later. Building 7, Second Entrance, 4th Floor, No. 7, remember
?"
Walking on the street in the neighborhood, I felt distracted and uneasy, cursing myself for what I was doing. Did I
have feelings for this boy? I told myself: This is impossible. I don't even know his name,
and he's so much younger than me.
But, does he have feelings for me too? He probably does, otherwise, why would he be so
nice to me?
Lost in thought, I returned home.
Because of the divorce, I had sent the child to my hometown. The three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment was empty and lifeless.
I changed my clothes in the bedroom, put my dress and bra in the washing machine, took a pair of underwear and a nightgown
, and went to the bathroom to shower. I love the feeling of being embraced by the water under the shower. While washing my genitals, I thought of that 　　lewd man
on the bus, and a wave of disgust washed over me . 　　As I rubbed my breasts, I unconsciously thought of the man's broad body in front of me again. I held the showerhead up and rinsed 　　my breasts. The water droplets from the showerhead hit my nipples, sending tingling sensations through me, like being caressed and massaged by warm, large hands. My 　　nipples slowly hardened, and I let out a soft moan. My left hand involuntarily reached towards my lower abdomen. 　　For a long time, I had used this method to comfort myself. 　　Suddenly, the doorbell rang, snapping me out of my reverie. I opened the bathroom door: "Who is it 　　?" 　　It was the boy's voice: "Sis, it's me." 　　Damn it, how could I forget him? I said, "Wait a minute." I 　　rushed back into the bathroom, hastily dried myself off, and put on my underwear, only to realize I had forgotten my bra. There wasn't time to 　　go find it. 　　He was outside; if the neighbors saw him, there would definitely be gossip. 　　I slipped on my nightgown, not even bothering to dry my hair, and went to open the door for him. 　　Luckily, the hallway was deserted. I whispered, "Come in quickly," 　　and then slammed the door shut. 　　He stood there dumbfounded in the middle of the living room. I chuckled, "Sit down, do you need me to let you have a seat, you silly boy 　　?" " 　　Silly boy" was a nickname I used to use for my husband, and unconsciously, when I said it to this boy, my 　　face flushed red. 　　He obediently sat down on the sofa, constantly wiping the sweat from his face; his shirt was soaked 　　through and clung tightly to his body. 　　I went to the bedroom and found one of my husband's pajamas, handing it to him: "Go take a shower, look how sweaty you are." 　　Watching him go into the bathroom, I went to the bedroom to find a bra. 　　The nightgown was too sheer; it couldn't cover my body at all. 　　Entering the bedroom, I saw our wedding photo from nine years ago hanging on the wall, and a wave of sadness washed over me. Back then, he still 　　loved me very much. When he was pursuing his master's degree, he helped his advisor with cases and earned some money, taking me to the mall to look at 　　clothes. 　　I complained about the prices, feeling bad about spending money, but he put on airs like a wealthy man: "Buy it! Who else but a beauty like Honghong 　　deserves to wear this?" 　　But after we got married, his career became increasingly successful, and we grew more and more distant. Our relationship became cold and almost 　　polite. When I wanted to have sex, he always used being tired as an excuse. 　　I never imagined that he would have another woman when my daughter was only three. 　　A surge of intense anger and jealousy made me want to find a pair of scissors, cut up the photo of him and his smile, 　　burn it to ashes, and mix it with dog poop to feed the dog. 　　I stood on the bed, trying to take down the wedding photo, but it was hung too high; I couldn't reach it. 　　I grabbed a small stool, and just as I stood on it, I heard him call out from outside, "Sister." 　　My heart skipped a beat, and the soft mattress beneath the stool caused me to lose my balance, and I fell heavily, twisting my ankle 　　. 　　He rushed over, grabbed me under my armpits, and pulled me up, asking anxiously, "Sis, what's 　　wrong? Why did you climb so high?" 　　I said, "Nothing." 　　He complained, "Why didn't you ask me to do something? Why are you being so stubborn?" 　　I swayed to the living room: "What do you want to drink, cola or water?" 　　He said, "Sis, I can do it myself. You sit still, did you twist your ankle?" 　　I said, "I'm too old, I'm useless." 　　He made an exaggerated expression of surprise: "You're old? If I hadn't seen your wedding photo in the room just now, 　　I would have thought you were a junior from our school." 　　I slapped him: "You cheeky woman, am I that young? You're an old woman."

He said eagerly, "Really?"
He then raised his little finger and gestured, "Who's lying? This is it."
I laughed at his words, and just as I was about to ask him, "What's that?", a sharp pain shot through my foot, and I couldn't help but groan
.
He said, "Sister, let me massage you."
I said, "You know about this?"
He said, "Our school offers courses like this."
I said, "Are you from a medical university?"
He shook his head, "No, I'm from a sports university. Sports universities also have sports massage courses, specializing in treating sprains and bruises.
"
I laughed, "You're a traditional Chinese medicine doctor from a family of doctors!"
Saying this, I still extended my foot to him.
He sat on the small stool in front of me, holding my foot in his arms. His technique was very professional, his movements gentle
and graceful. After ten minutes or so, I definitely felt much better.
I said, "Not bad, I didn't realize you had this talent.
By the way, you haven't told me your name yet."
He said, "My name is Sun Dongxiao, I'm a sophomore at the sports university. What do you do, sister?"
I said, "The most impressive yet most useless profession, a teacher."
He said, "Who says it's useless? I love teachers the most."
I said, "Okay, I'll introduce you to a teacher girlfriend sometime.
Maybe you already have a girlfriend now?"
He shook his head, "No."
I said, "Really? A handsome guy like you must have a lot of girls who like you. If I were
a few years younger, I might have fallen for you too."
He chuckled, and I blushed, feeling a little speechless.
He placed his hand on my feet, gently stroking them, and remained silent for a long time, creating a somber atmosphere
.
He lifted my legs and placed them on his knees: "Sister, let me massage your feet, it'll help relax your muscles and improve blood circulation
."
I said, "Okay, can it also be good for your complexion?"
He said, "Yes, but you have to do it every day."
As he spoke, he raised my legs a little higher and massaged the soles of my feet with his thumb.
Suddenly, I felt this position was a bit indecent. His eyes kept glancing under my skirt, so I pulled my legs back slightly. "Okay
, stop massaging. You should rest too."
He grabbed my other leg. "It's not done yet, sis. Both of them need a massage."
As he spoke, he spread my legs apart. "Sis, let me help you exercise."
I said, "Are you kidding me? Let me go. Or I'll get angry!"
He suddenly pounced on me, pinning me down on the sofa and holding me tightly. "Sis, I like you so much!"
I pushed him away fiercely. "Don't do this! I'm really angry!"
He sat down beside me helplessly. "Sis, I really like you."
I lowered my head. "Don't do this anymore. It's impossible. You're still young..."
His hand was on my waist, and I gently pulled away, but he stubbornly pressed against me again.
His pajamas opened in the struggle, revealing his well-developed, muscular, dark, and oily body.
I didn't refuse anymore, letting him wrap his arms around my waist: "There's no possibility between us. Listen to me, let me go
, okay? Let's talk this out."
His hand was on my thigh. I tried to remove his hand, but he grabbed mine, holding it tightly
: "Sister, I love you!"
I nestled in his arms: "Silly boy, love comes with responsibility. Don't say 'I love you' so easily."
He was still stubborn: "I just love you."
He was a man, young, strong, and full of wild energy.
How long had it been since I'd been so close to a man's body? Three years, or five? I needed a man too
.
Reason told me I couldn't do this, but another voice kept saying: He's betrayed you, you don't
need to keep holding on for him.
The dam in my heart was crumbling bit by bit. The evil voice grew louder and louder. I closed my eyes, letting his
large hands knead my breasts, and murmured dreamily, "No, little brother, no, this isn't good."
But I knew I was ready to give up resisting the temptation.
He kissed my lips roughly.
I kept my mouth closed, my lips slick with his saliva.
He was panting, his heavy breaths hitting my face, just like many years ago on the hill on campus,
when I gave him my first kiss, and he was so rough and clumsy.
I opened my mouth, welcoming his kiss.
He foolishly rubbed his lips against mine. I called him a fool in my heart, and stuck my tongue into his mouth
, hooking it around his tongue, sucking it into my mouth, holding it, sucking it.
My hands caressed his young body. His pajamas had slipped down sometime during the night. I stroked his
strong back, his firm buttocks, his hairy, thick thighs—it was all so sexy.
He pressed down on me, parted my legs, and started to pull down my panties.
I opened my eyes and whispered, "Carry me to the bed."
He gently placed me on the bed, and I watched him remove the briefs that were tucked into his body. That ugly thing
sprang out—large, hard, and erect, pointing diagonally upwards towards my lower abdomen, though the foreskin was a bit long.
I sat up and cooperated with him as he removed my nightgown.
He pulled at my panties, and I clutched the edges, powerlessly protecting my last line of defense.
Was I acting? Performing a play for myself, to mask my inner desires, or to achieve some kind of balance
?
In my struggle with him, I saw our wedding photo hanging on the wall.
He was still smiling, seemingly watching me and another man in the bed where we had once made love. A
surge of vengeful pleasure welled up inside me. I released my grip, lifted my buttocks, and let him pull down my underwear.
My heart pounded, my body trembled, my mind went blank, and the intense itching deep inside my vagina made
me unconsciously open my legs, waiting for his entry.
He straddled me, pressing down on me, his hand on his hard, erect penis, pressing against my wetness. I hugged...
I pressed him against my back, letting his strong chest muscles squeeze my breasts, extracting
the pleasure and desire from my very being.
I could even feel my labia opening, awaiting his favor.
When the tip of his hard penis brushed against my labia, I involuntarily groaned, arching
my back to receive his hardness, to receive the fullness he brought to my extreme emptiness.
I didn't get that feeling.
He was like a runaway horse, galloping over me, like a siege warrior, yet unable to find his
way in.
His face turned purplish-red, he howled, sweat dripping onto my breasts, face, and mouth, salty and
astringent.
I opened my eyes, kissed his face, and whispered, "Are you a virgin?"
He hummed in response, his thick, hard penis still thrashing between my legs. I freed one hand, reached down, grasped
his penis, and placed it at the entrance of my vagina, guiding it inside.
He let out a deep roar, his thick, hard penis almost wedging into my vagina.
The itchy emptiness was filled by his firmness. I tried my best to spread my legs, wanting him to go deeper, deeper still
, deep into the deepest part of my heart.
I kissed his earlobe and whispered, "Move, you fool, fuck me."
As if receiving a command, he began to thrust wildly.
Waves of pleasure radiated from deep within my vagina, radiating outwards throughout my body. I felt weak all over, like an ancient city walled in the
wind, and he, a warrior, was ramming the city gates with massive logs.
The intense itching deep inside my vagina was relentlessly assaulted by his hard penis, each thrust eliciting wanton
screams from me.
His penis grew even larger, its speed and frequency increasing.
Ah, beautiful, beautiful… I was like a female beast in heat, entwining myself around his body.
He ejaculated.
I could feel his semen gushing out into the deepest part of my body. I twisted my hips, using my vagina
to envelop his, grinding against him, giving him even more pleasure.
He lay limp and powerless on top of me, his still-erect penis remaining inside me.
I looked up and kissed his lips.
His lips were full, and it felt wonderful to hold them in my mouth.
He put his tongue in my mouth, and we licked each other.
My hands traced his firm back, then rested on his buttocks, gently caressing them.
I whispered, "Is it good?"
He nodded emphatically.
I said, "Go wash up first."
He climbed off me, and I covered my genitals with my hand to prevent semen from staining the sheets.
He picked me up and said, "Let's wash together."
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips.
In the bathroom, I finally saw him completely naked.
He was very tall, with prominent pectoral muscles, strong, powerful legs, and lots of chest and leg hair. I was particularly
fascinated by his buttocks; in my mind, only Schwarzenegger had such a firm, sexy, and angular backside.
He kept staring at my body, so I slapped his bottom. "What are you looking at? Never seen a woman before?
"
He grinned mischievously. "I've seen them, but never a naked woman."
I punched his chest. "You naughty thing, I'll kill you!"
He pulled me into his arms, turned on the shower, and the rushing water enveloped us.
After the shower, I carefully dried him, like I was serving my husband. A sweet yet melancholic feeling left
me feeling empty and uncomfortable.
He asked, "Sis, what's wrong?"
I shook my head and continued drying him.
Back in the bedroom, we lay side by side on the bed. I was so tired that I wanted to fall asleep immediately.
He propped his head up with one hand and looked at me.
I pulled the sheet over my face: "What's there to see? You've done everything you wanted to do, aren't you going home?"
He ripped the sheet off: "Where's your husband? Is n't he coming home
?" I said coldly, "We're divorced."
He gasped. I said, "Aren't you going home?"
He pulled me close: "No, I'm staying with you."
I thought for a moment and said, "Little brother, we did things we shouldn't have done. Forget about it all."
He shook his head firmly: "Impossible! Sister, I really love you."
I turned my back to him.
His hand caressed my buttocks, and he stopped talking, only the air conditioning hissing softly.
After a long time, he whispered in my ear, "Sister, I'm hard again."
I reached down to his crotch, and there it was—a thick, hard, long thing.
I said, "Why did it get hard again so quickly?"
He innocently replied, "How should I know? It just wanted to get hard."
I said, "If it's hard, deal with it yourself. I'm tired anyway."
He grinned and said, "Then you have to help me too."
I said, "How can I help you?"
He lifted the sheet and said, "Turn it over for me."
I sat up, leaned against him, and held his penis in my hand, slowly stroking it towards the base. His long foreskin
retracted, revealing the round glans. I pushed it upwards, letting the foreskin cover the glans, and then stroked it downwards again.
He made a gasping sound from between his teeth, and his hand on my breast began to knead it.
I increased the frequency, and he tensed up, showing an expression of pleasure mixed with pain.
I let go and said, "Okay, do it yourself, your hands are sore."
He looked like he'd fallen from heaven to hell, glaring at me angrily, then with a look of disappointment.
A thought suddenly popped into my head: "How about I use my mouth to help you?"
He said incredulously, "Really?"
I gently pinched his small nipple: "You promise you'll listen to me in everything from now on?"
He said decisively, "Of course, I'd even kill someone if you asked me to."
I straddled him: "How could I let you do such a thing? But you just have to listen to me from now on
."
I started kissing and biting his nipples, licking down his chest and abdomen, one hand cupping his testicles, the other
gripping his penis.
I opened my mouth, taking his glans in, my lips enveloping his foreskin, swallowing it deeper. The surface of his glans
was smooth; I gently swept it with the tip of my tongue, circling the groove beneath.
He let out a happy chuckle.
I pressed the tip of my tongue against the clitoris of his glans, gently rubbing it. The young, healthy, and strong man had no unpleasant
odor, only the characteristic pungent smell of his genitals that aroused desire.
He writhed uncontrollably, and I suddenly opened my mouth wide, taking most of his penis inside.
He thrust his hips upward, trying to penetrate deeper into my mouth.
I tried my best to swallow, the head of his penis against my throat, making me gag a little
. His thick pubic hair tickled around my mouth.
I ran my hands over his strong thighs, mischievously stroking the inside, arousing every ounce
of pleasure in him.
He groaned, bending his legs, his muscles bulging as if about to burst through the skin.
My tongue pressed against his penis, the tip licking the base. The feeling of my mouth being filled by his enormous member was
uncomfortable, but I loved seeing him happy.
He breathed heavily, unable to control himself, and suddenly sat up, grabbing my hair and pressing my head between his
legs, thrusting forcefully.
His movements quickened, his testicles slapping against my chin, his glans seemingly swelling further,
thrusting forcefully into my mouth and throat.
I knew he was about to climax, so I broke free from him, sat up, grasped his penis, and stroked it back and forth
, softly asking, "Do you want to cum?"
He nodded, his eyes fixed on my naked genitals.
I provocatively parted my legs, exposing my vulva to his view.
His penis throbbed in my palm; I loved the feeling of him being aroused by me, it made me feel like I was still
a woman, a woman capable of attracting men.
He parted my labia, peering inside.
I squeezed his penis tightly, whispering, "Never seen one before?"
He hummed in agreement.
I placed my legs on his thighs, coordinating with his hands' movements on my lower body. A tingling, itchy sensation
radiated from deep within my vagina under his touch, causing fluid to flow. I couldn't help but lick my lips
and wriggle.
He suddenly said, "A woman's lower body is like this."
I asked, "What does it look like?"
He said, "It's different from a little girl's."
I released his penis and flicked his forehead: "Shameless! Have you ever seen a little girl's?"
He argued, "That was when I was little."
I asked, "How little?"
He said, "When I was five or six, playing house with my friends."
I asked curiously, "Playing house? How is that related to this?"
He said shyly, "It's when boys and girls..." "Kids play with each other's genitals."
I spat at him, my face flushed. "Pretending you don't know anything? Turns out you were a pervert even at that age
."
He hurriedly said, "I didn't really understand back then, I was only five or six."
I said, "You knew that at five or six?"
He said, "I was just curious back then, nothing serious happened anyway, and besides, everyone
played like that together."
He stroked my genitals and continued, "A little girl's genitals are different from yours."
I I said, "How come it's different?"
He said, "It didn't have any hair, and it wasn't this big either. I remember it was just bald, white, and a slit
."
I spat at him, "Nonsense, I know that. You didn't have any hair back then either, did you?"
He spread my labia with both hands, "That's why I'm curious. Sis, where's the clitoris?"
I said, "Why are you asking that?"
He said, "I heard that it feels really good when a woman is touched there."
I said, "Ugh, who told you that?" I
grabbed him, and he was covered in my vaginal fluid. He pressed his middle finger against my clitoris and said, "Right here."
He pressed down with his finger, and the sting made me cry out, "You bad guy, you've touched my urethra
!"
He looked innocent and said, "I can't find it."
I said, "If you can't find it, then don't look. What's the point of knowing so much? You're already bad enough."
He pleaded with me, "Sis, teach me! I want you to feel good too."
I embarrassedly spread my legs and showed him where the vaginal opening, the urethra, and the clitoris were
.
He exclaimed, "Women are so complicated!"
I pinched his penis and squeezed it. "You think you're like men, with this damned thing?"
He feigned pain, "Be gentle, it's my family heirloom!"
I spat, "You damned thing, your family heirloom!"
He pressed his fingers against my clitoris, gently rubbing it, a tingling sensation slowly spreading throughout my body.
His fingertips circled my clitoris, my vagina contracted strongly, waves of pleasure washing over me
.
My nipples hardened, erect with excitement. I rubbed my breasts, squeezed my legs together, and let out an uncontrollable
moan.
Perhaps my nature is inherently lewd.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my breasts against his strong, well-developed pectoral muscles. My nipples touched his muscles, and a surge of
pleasure coursed through my breasts, spreading throughout my body.
I gently rubbed my nipples against his hairy nipples, trying to intensify the pleasure.
My body needed him, needed a strong, young man like him. This was the only reason I could use to
convince myself, to stop resisting the wantonness within me.
I stuck out my tongue and licked his lips, licking the dark hairs on them.
Lewdness, wantonness, vulgarity, slut, whore—these words flowed chaotically through my mind. I was…
Hmm? Maybe I am, but what about those men? To hell with them, I'll be a harlot, a whore
. What have I gained from my unwavering chastity? Betrayal? To hell with fidelity,
I want this man to rape me, to fuck me with his penis, to penetrate my vagina.
I straddled him, grasped his penis, and gently squatted down
, guiding his glans into my vagina. The sudden fullness from his thick, hard, and swollen penis caused me to
scream.
I lifted my buttocks, moving up and down, letting his penis thrust in and out of my vagina.
The ridges of his penis scraped against the walls of my vagina, the ever-increasing pleasure making me feel like I was floating on clouds
. He held my waist, I held onto his back, and offered my breasts to his mouth, letting him suck and lick them.
The intense pleasure from above and below tore at my senses, burning every nerve
in my body. Extreme pleasure filled my body, and in a blur, it felt like lightning struck
the top of my head. All the pleasure spread and rippled through every inch of my skin, and I collapsed weakly against him.
I climaxed.
After a long while, I lifted my face from his embrace, hugging him tightly. Our sweaty skin pressed together
, slippery, like two fish.
He asked softly, "Did you enjoy it?"
I nodded, pressed my face against his, rubbing it, and gently pinched his small nipples with my fingers.
He grinned mischievously and said, "I haven't enjoyed it yet."
I was a little surprised and said, "Didn't you ejaculate?"
I twisted my hips, feeling his thick, hard penis still inside me. I contracted my anus
, clamping his penis between my vagina and sitting on his lap, wriggling. "Why did it take so long this time?"
He wrapped his arms around my waist, churning and thrusting his penis inside me, telling me that he usually masturbated
quickly the first time, but the second time took a long time.
His penis moved gently inside me, but soon my senses were aroused again. My lower body
was already wet and swollen to the extreme; any slight teasing would stir my delicate, sensitive nerves.
I propped myself up on the bed with my hands, leaning back to meet his increasingly fierce thrusts
.
He stopped speaking, stopped uttering words, and just pounded into my body with each increasingly forceful and hard thrust
.
The lingering afterglow of my orgasm was stirred up again by him, surging into a tidal wave that swept over my senses.
My weak, powerless arms finally gave way, and with his fierce thrusts, I fell backward onto the bed.
He sat there, his penis covered in my white semen, the glans, mostly exposed outside the foreskin,
a purplish-red color, throbbing up and down.
I spread my legs, opening my vulva, seducing him in the most lewd way.
He grabbed my legs, pulling my body towards his penis, pressing my vaginal opening against his glans
. With a sudden thrust of his strong hips, his entire penis was completely inside me.
I closed my eyes, savoring the wonderful sensations he gave me.
He straddled me, his right arm wrapped around my back, holding me tightly. His chest pressed against my breasts
, and with each thrust, the base of his penis and the thick pubic hair rubbed against my clitoris, an indescribable tingling, like
ant bites, stimulating my nerves. I craved more roughness, more wildness, to
conquer me with his enormous size.
I arched my legs, hooking them around his waist, letting him penetrate deeper. My
wet, empty space was filled by his repeated thrusts, a feeling of ecstasy washing over me.
He was like a high-speed chariot, crashing over my body, and his lower body, like
the cannon at the front of the chariot, pounding against my fortress. Each impact was so solid and powerful.
Consciousness vanished, my mind went blank, my body was no longer under my control. Strange hisses
and inexplicable cries escaped my throat. It seemed that only my vagina remained responsive, welcoming his penetration and thrusting, as
if I were on a raging sea, being constantly tossed to the crest of a wave and then plummeting back down. That tingling, numb, and limp
feeling made me want to go crazy and die.
I climaxed again.
He continued his fierce thrusting. I was limp and powerless, my limbs weak, letting him ravage and trample me
. Waves of pleasure threatened to tear my body to shreds and then scatter with the wind.
His enormous penis pierced my vagina, forcefully thrusting in to crush me. His movements grew faster and faster, more
powerful and intense. His penis swelled dramatically inside me, as if to tear my vagina apart. I gripped the sheets, writhing
and screaming uncontrollably.
His semen sprayed into my deepest, darkest depths; I could even feel it shooting directly into my uterus.
With his final release, his heavy body collapsed onto me, breathing heavily. I lay on my back
, letting his strong body cover me, savoring the wonderful feeling of our skin pressed together after the passion.
It all felt like a dream, both real and unreal.
He whispered in my ear, kissing and nibbling at the tip, "Am I beautiful?"
I hummed softly, opening my eyes, snapping out of the lingering afterglow of my climax, and seriously examining
the second man in my life.
His features were youthful and innocent, easily reminiscent of an unripe apple, sweet and
sour with a hint of astringency. His
face seemed to still have a light downy hair, covered with glistening beads of sweat, like green grapes glistening with morning dew
.
I gently stroked his face with my hand and asked, "Tired?"
He grinned exaggeratedly, "Not tired! Let's do it again."
I gasped and instinctively pushed him away, sitting up. "Are you trying to kill me?!"
Seeing his limp penis, I flicked it lightly with my finger. "You naughty thing—get up
, you've dirtied my bed."
He had ejaculated a lot, leaving stains everywhere on the sheets, clumps of them.
I picked up the sheets, put them in the washing machine, opened the cabinet, found a new sheet, laid it out, smoothed it out, and then put the pillowcases...
I lowered my head, and everything was as calm as still water, as if nothing had happened.
Seeing him still standing, I nudged him: "Why aren't you taking a shower? What are you standing there for?"
He exclaimed in admiration, "Your body is so beautiful."
After our intimate physical intimacy, being naked together was no longer shameful. I turned
around, striking a seductive pose: "What's beautiful about you?"
He pursed his lips: "Beautiful everywhere."
I rolled my eyes at him: "That's like saying nothing at all."
He hugged me from behind, holding my hand: "Really, beautiful everywhere, beautiful breasts, beautiful waist." "Your butt is beautiful,
your legs are beautiful, your feet are beautiful too."
I held his fingers: "Isn't your face beautiful?"
He pressed his face against mine, rubbing against me: "Of course it's beautiful, your eyes are beautiful, your nose is beautiful, your mouth is beautiful, your face is beautiful
, and..."
I scratched his palm: "And what else?"
He whispered: "Your pussy is beautiful too."
My cheeks flushed red, and I pinched his hand: "Are you trying to kill me? How can you say such awful things?"
He chuckled: "You're the one who made me say them one by one."
I pulled away from him and said: "Okay, go take a shower." "Let's take a shower."
He grabbed my hand. "Let's shower together."
Hot water sprayed over our bodies. I scrubbed myself down there, and his hands wandered to my breasts
. He said, "Yours are really big."
I said, "Really?"
He said, "Yes, I've never seen anything as big as yours."
I said, "I don't believe you. There are so many pretty girls in college. Honestly, I don't really believe this is your first
time."
He quickly protested, "Really."
I stared at his gradually hardening penis. "First time?" "Someone like you is driving me crazy."
He chuckled, and I reached out and grabbed his penis. "You got hard again so quickly?"
I pulled back his foreskin, exposing the glans. "You little devil."
He said, "But you were moaning with pleasure, weren't you?"
I pinched him hard. "You're so annoying."
He cupped my face. "Suck it for me."
I hesitated for a moment, then obediently knelt down and took his glans into my mouth, sucking. He let out
a moan of pleasure, thrusting his hips in my mouth.
I held onto his legs, swallowing and releasing his thick member.
Water poured over my head, streaming down my face, as if I were giving him oral sex in a vast wilderness, in a downpour
.
His frequency increased, his joyful cries echoing in the small space, the spurting hot air hitting
my throat, and he exploded in my mouth.
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