My infidelity

The first time I saw him was during my night shift.

There weren't many patients that night, so I went to bed early. The nurse told me there was a patient coming, and when I opened the door to my examination room, I saw him. He was about 180 cm tall, around 40 years old, with a full beard and slightly curly hair, looking somewhat European. Later, I learned that he had lived in the United States for five years. Does living abroad for a while mean you become assimilated?

I'm 29, married for three years, and at least past the age of screaming for some handsome guy. Plus, with my job, I sometimes feel quite uninterested, always lacking things or people that interest me. But this man actually gave me a sense of wonder.

His father was sick, suffering from insufficient blood supply to the brain. After explaining the condition, I sat down to write the medical record, while he stood beside me. Suddenly, he realized that his neckline seemed quite low (because it was summer, his clothes were simple; he usually wore a safety pin on his white coat to work), and the safety pin had fallen off. I never wear underwear to bed; I just wore a loose nightgown. I instinctively grabbed my collar, but didn't dare lift my head. It was so embarrassing! Not only was I exposed, but my patient, a handsome older man, had seen it all.

I smoothed my collar and casually glanced up at him. He actually winked at me. Did he come back from abroad and not know anything about modesty or restraint?

I said angrily, "Can you sit over there? You're blocking the light here." "Okay... Song Ou? This name doesn't seem suitable for a doctor. And the appearance doesn't suit it either." He looked mocking. He was right. I've always wanted to change my name. In the medical profession, appearance and age are the most important. I don't know how many times I've explained it to people. Does one have to be an old man with white hair to treat patients?

"I'm sorry, you can only see me now, or you can wait until tomorrow?" "Don't be angry, I just think it's cruel that your hospital makes such a pretty young girl work as a child laborer, making her work night shifts!" "Haha," I chuckled. "At 2 a.m., I was actually flirted with by a handsome older man! It was quite an interesting experience, and suddenly I didn't feel so upset anymore.

The day after my night shift, I went back to work (we usually work in the wards). As soon as I got to the department, a colleague told me that a patient in bed 3 had a handsome but slightly older man as his family member. Could it be him?

Admittedly, it's rare for them to call someone handsome. I went on rounds with the head doctor, and sure enough, it was him accompanying the patient. It turns out he and our head doctor are "childhood friends," he's 39, a journalist, and just returned from abroad.

"Dr. Song, thank you for that night." He had big hands. "

Let's have dinner together tonight, everyone come, Brother Li (our head doctor), give me a chance to have dinner with a beautiful woman, haha."So, after get off work, I called my husband to tell him I wouldn't be home for dinner. A bunch of us headed to the restaurant. Three women and four men actually drank three bottles of baijiu and two bottles of red wine. Well, the boss was there; we couldn't lose face, everyone had to drink. That guy kept raising his glass to me, "Come on, toast to the beauties under Brother Li's command, especially Miss Song, thank you for your hospitality!" I said, "Okay, Brother Xiao (his surname is Xiao), you drink three glasses and I'll drink one, okay?" I really didn't expect him to agree so quickly. If I had known, I would have let him drink a whole bottle and I'd just drink one. As a result, I drank almost half a bottle of red wine that day. I have to admit, it seems like drinking too much made me really happy. My husband also likes me to drink; he always says that drinking makes sex more enjoyable. That night, everyone was very happy. I didn't feel like he was a complete stranger I'd only met twice. He was very good at joining in our conversations, or finding interesting topics to engage us. A talkative, handsome man who could drink a lot, and with a beard—it's really hard not to like him.

He talked to me a lot, and I felt embarrassed, especially in front of so many colleagues—I'm a married woman, after all. But I genuinely felt happy to be noticed by him; it satisfied my vanity. Whether he was trying to seduce me or not, I didn't care. Staying vigilant is easy, at least when I felt like I was being bewitched by a handsome guy, it was hard to stay alert. I haven't lost my virginity yet! Whether I will in the future is another matter; anyway, I won't actively seek him out. I'm lazy!

We quickly became familiar friends, and when I felt I was developing feelings for him that went beyond friendship, I decided to intentionally distance myself. After all, having an affair takes courage.

But not seeking him out didn't mean he wouldn't seek me out; just because a woman doesn't leave the house doesn't mean no one will pull her out.

Even I realized he was definitely trying to seduce me, and I found myself increasingly unable to resist. At first, I thought he had a wife and family, but he was divorced. At first, I thought I had a husband, and I loved him very much, but at the most crucial moment, he went abroad, saying he was going for two months! Good heavens! Did you expect me to tell my husband, "Don't go, someone's trying to seduce me, I'm afraid I won't be able to refuse, so please don't leave!"

I've always been a go-with-the-flow person; things are what they are. Since fate has arranged it this way, what can I do?

So, after having dinner with him and my colleagues three times and going to karaoke twice, I finally agreed to go out with him alone.

I bet he was very excited, because every time he asked me to go out alone, I always brought a lot of my colleagues with him. When I agreed to go out alone this time, I could tell he was a little incoherent, which satisfied my vanity once again. I still had the ability to make a handsome 39-year-old man, who had lived in the AIDS-ridden United States for five years, speechless. I was excited.

Filled with the thrill, excitement, and satisfaction of this affair, I even put on some makeup. I swear, I really didn't intend to sleep with him that day; at least I felt the timing wasn't right, I still felt guilty, I was still struggling with my moral boundaries. But I still changed into a sexy set of lingerie. I didn't want to stand next to him like his daughter, so I tried to appear more mature. And so, my first post-marital date began.

Like all extramarital affairs, the meeting place was always a secluded spot, a private club, safe and not afraid of being seen.

We were both satisfied with each other's attire. I could feel the way he looked at me, as if he wanted to take my clothes off immediately. It seems even the most elegant man thinks with his lower body. Then we ate and chatted. I was somewhat absent-minded, which could be attributed to nervousness, or perhaps anticipation, or maybe fear. He was an experienced man, always able to accurately grasp my thoughts, so he suggested drinking. When I quickly finished half a bottle of red wine, I thought, "What's there to worry about? If he's capable, he can get me into bed, so I don't care." But deep down, I always knew I was doomed. However, the books said women often have affairs, so giving myself to him didn't seem so bad; this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Then I said to him, "I've come to terms with it." "Composed to terms with what?" Don't you know? The books say that sex is when men "come to their senses" and women "come to their senses"! "Have you come to your senses too?" He was clearly stunned for a moment (regretting not saying it while he was drinking, otherwise he might have spat out his wine). Then he burst out laughing.

"I've never seen anyone like you before. So this is what intellectuals are like. It's so unusual to hear such rude words from such a pretty and lovely girl." "You bastard! You have no idea how much I've suffered these past few days. All you do is call, ask me out to dinner and karaoke. Do you know how difficult this is for me? I have my own family. Do you think I'm cheap?" Suddenly, even she felt wronged, her nose stung, and tears welled up in her eyes.

He was startled and quickly stood up to sit on the sofa next to me, gently hugging me. "Okay, this isn't like you, you know? Although you're very cute, you give off a cold vibe. I thought you were a very calm person, someone who did things with great discretion, so I really didn't dare to be too hasty, afraid of scaring you away! I just wanted you to slowly understand and accept me. Yes, I really want to have sex with you, but if the price is scaring you away, then I'd rather we just be good friends." "What do you know? You know and you still made me cry." Actually, I know myself, I'm not angry at him, I'm just venting, angry at myself for not having self-control, surrendering so quickly, and even taking the initiative to suggest sex. It's really embarrassing. "

I was wrong. I'm a pig, like this, I'll turn into a pig for you right now." After saying that, he pouted and pursed his lips, imitating a pig's squeals twice. I couldn't believe a 39-year-old man could imitate a pig so well. I immediately laughed.

Suddenly I realized he was still holding me, so I quickly moved further away. He pulled me in tightly. "Let me tell you, I've been thinking about this for a while now. If I'd known you were in such a hurry, I should have raped you the first time I saw you!" "You old scoundrel! Trying to take advantage of a young girl!" I clenched my fist and punched his chest. He lowered his head and kissed me. This was the fourth time I'd ever kissed a man—two boyfriends, one husband, and now him. His breath had a minty taste. I have to admit, "older men" are more skilled. I quickly realized I was aroused because my nipples became very sensitive. Even through my clothes, it was painful to move. So I quickly pushed him away. If this continued, I wouldn't be able to stop moaning right there.

"Can't stop?" He looked at me as if he knew everything. "You bastard!" I buried my head in his chest, not daring to let him see my cheeks burning with passion.

"So, do you think we should make love or go to bed next?" This scoundrel, he's turned into an animal in an instant.

"No, let's go for a walk outside! Please!" Because his hand was already on my chest through my clothes, thankfully I was wearing a dress today. And he didn't seem to have the guts to put his hand under my skirt so quickly.

I kissed his cheek and jumped out of his arms when he wasn't looking. Luckily there weren't many people around, and luckily I don't have an exhibitionist fetish, otherwise I really wouldn't have been able to resist.

I got into his car and wandered aimlessly around the streets. There really wasn't anywhere to go at this time. I like karaoke, sometimes I play cards, I really don't know what to do, anyway my husband isn't home, I have plenty of time.

So he drove quietly, and I sat quietly, listening to soft music, I almost fell asleep.

It's really strange, we've only known each other for less than two months, and we're already at the point of going to bed.

It seems that the passion after marriage is indeed much less than before, of course that's how it is when you get old.

I used to be a rather "closet pervert" type of person (my husband's words, though I don't like them). I admire myself for that back then. I'd had sex in classrooms, parks, even hallways and rooftops. But in bed, I just found it boring and unexciting. The funniest thing was that after my second boyfriend and I finished in a classroom, he actually left his underwear in his desk. The next day, when he went to get it, there was a class, and the whole classroom knew he'd lost his underwear! Haha, thinking about it now makes me laugh so hard.

Later, after I started working, I met my husband. The most we ever did was in the car. I really wouldn't dare go to places like parks.

But with him, even though we haven't actually had sex yet, I've been thinking about trying it again in these strange places, maybe because he came back from America. I also wondered if he liked SM? To be honest, I've never tried it. I always see a lot of that stuff in the videos my husband downloads, and I always refuse when he wants to try it. At most, I agree to let him use rope bondage, but I just don't have the courage to accept anal sex. Then I suddenly really wanted to know if his penis was big. The books say that people with big noses also have big penises, and his nose looks pretty big, haha.

I was just thinking like this, almost turning into a pervert. Looking at myself, I'm so lewd. I keep saying I don't want to have sex, but my mind is full of these things. Even my underwear feels a little wet. I'm a very sensitive person. Before sex, my husband only needs to tease me a little, and I'm soaking wet. During sex, he moves a few times, and I orgasm, so I orgasm more than twice every time. Afterwards, I have no energy at all, like epilepsy in our professional knowledge—a sensitive cerebral cortex.

"What are you thinking about?" His words suddenly interrupted my reverie. "Thinking about you. Tell me, how many girls have you slept with?" "Huh? I can't, I'm driving right now. My right hand and right foot are both occupied. My left hand and left foot aren't enough!" "Go to hell!" "To tell you the truth, I... am actually still a virgin." "Well, let me tell you, I'm a saint, you can't touch me, or God will castrate you." ...Most of the time we were together, we talked nonsense like this. I didn't ask him why he got divorced, and he didn't ask about my family. I just let myself indulge for a while.

I looked at my watch; it was already 11 o'clock.

"Can you take me home? I have to work tomorrow." Actually, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep even if I went home.

"Is this an invitation?" "Okay! What a brave girl!" "Inviting you to go to hell." But was I really inviting him? Should I let him in later? Ugh, I'll just take it one step at a time. If he rapes me, I'll accept it; if he seduces me, I'll give in too.

Prepared to sacrifice myself, I jumped out of the car as soon as he parked it. I walked home quickly.

"Slow down, why are you in such a hurry? Girls should be more reserved. I know I'm very charming, and you're eager to invite me in, but please don't fall!" This jerk, are all 39-year-old men this shameless? "

Keep your voice down!" Luckily it was late, and thankfully the neighbors here are all quite polite and don't gossip. He followed me tiptoeing into the house.

I had finally let the wolf into the house.

Once inside, before he could even take a step forward, I blocked him between the doorway and me. Being so close, I had to look up at him (I'm 160cm)

. "Don't you want to get me a glass of water? Or at least let me go to the bathroom?" "Excuses! Did you agree to let me tour the bedroom and then lie in bed discussing life?" I stood my ground. He suddenly reached under my armpits and lifted me up. "I've wanted to hug you like this for so long, and I saw it the first time. You're small but perfectly formed, very voluptuous!" That bastard, he really did see it that day.

"Ah! Put me down!"My chest was almost pressed against his face; I could even feel his warm breath. Then he actually buried his head in my chest.

"Mmm," I couldn't help but moan. I quickly pushed him away; it was safer to keep my feet on the ground.

"It's my first time here, and you won't even let me rest!" "How cruel! It's dark outside, I'm scared." "Okay, let me kiss you and then I'll leave." ...Seeing that I kept ignoring him, he had to put on a show alone.

Honestly, I really didn't know what to say. I wanted him to stay, but that felt too forward. I wanted him to leave, but I felt reluctant. I was truly at a loss.

Thinking about how my usually rational and peaceful life had been disrupted by this jerk, I really regretted working the night shift that day, why I didn't switch shifts with someone else.

For the first time, in the quiet of my home late at night, facing a man who wasn't my husband, I felt a mix of fear and anticipation.

"I've discovered you really can daydream, are you a fairy? Let me kiss my Sleeping Beauty awake!" "Before I could even utter a word of protest, he grabbed me, turned me around, and pressed me against the door. 'Being with you makes me feel like a beast, but if I don't do something, I feel like I'm even worse than a beast. Why do you always force me to use force? I don't like rape, but if you fantasize, I can cooperate.' As he spoke, his mouth was close to my ear, intentionally or unintentionally biting my earlobe. Satisfied to hear my murmur, he kissed me again. His hands covered my buttocks, gently stroking them.

I completely surrendered; I couldn't make a sound except for moaning. In a daze, I felt my legs getting cold. He actually lifted my skirt, and now all that was between his hands and my buttocks was that sheer, see-through panty.

Then his hands moved to my front, and I immediately tensed my legs. He sensed my tension and only gently rubbed my genitals through the panty.

'Little Lotus, should I stop?'" "Although that's what he said, his hand had already slipped inside my underwear.

I had my entire weight hanging between him and the door; my legs were already weak from the past two days.

His hand finally touched me there, and I could feel his fingers gently sliding down my slit.

"Hmm?" I knew what he was surprised about, because my husband and I both liked smooth pubic hair. I hated it when I urinated or during my period, while my husband really liked shaved pubic hair. He always said my pubic hair was very full, like the kind of vulva seen in AVs, so shaving it would look beautiful, and gradually I did think it looked really good. "

Oh my god! You're such a gift from heaven! I love shaved pubic hair the most, let me admire it, okay?

I was thinking of persuading you to shave it later." He picked me up and carried me directly to the sofa, placing me

on it. He lifted my skirt.

"Let me take a good look at you." He slowly pulled down my panties, occasionally letting out exclamations of admiration. I instinctively covered my genitals with my hands.

He gently removed my hands and said, "This is the most beautiful I've ever seen. I'm going to kiss her all night long." Seeing his serious expression and thinking about what he said, I couldn't help but laugh, even though I was in a daze.

"Really, very beautiful, perfect. The labia majora are full, and the labia minora aren't showing at all. The color is very vibrant." Although discussing whether my genitals are beautiful with a man seems absurd, I know for sure. I take great care of my genitals. I control the frequency of my husband's sex, and I use a nourishing solution after each time. Looking at the porn actresses on my hard drive, I can't stand the thought of their genitals becoming unsightly due to frequent sex.

"Do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to taste her." I do enjoy oral sex, passively, of course. Sometimes I don't even want to have sex because it can be painful.

He lifted my legs, placed a cushion under my buttocks, completely exposing my genitals. Being manipulated in such a shameful position by someone other than my husband was very stimulating. Before he even got close, my moans grew louder, and my genitals were already overflowing.

It seems I really have the potential to be a slut.

I could feel his tongue sliding down my calves to my thighs, then circling my buttocks. "Hurry up!" I couldn't help but tell him, the sensation of being teased was too painful.

Finally, his tongue reached my vulva, gently parting my labia and kissing my clitoris. He also gently bit it with his teeth from time to time. I quickly orgasmed.

I can imagine his face was covered in my fluids.

After letting me rest for a bit, he resumed his assault, this time adding his fingers, moving in and out of my vagina. "Ah—" It

was so stimulating, I couldn't help but moan loudly because he was touching my anus, and then he even kissed it with his mouth. My husband has never done that, so I quickly orgasmed again.

I don't know how many times this went on, but before we even started having real sex, I was completely exhausted.

So when he penetrated me, I didn't have the strength to scream anymore; only waves of pleasure were crashing over my brain.

That day, we didn't change positions or use any specific postures because I was completely powerless to move. Besides grabbing at him with my hands, I subconsciously screamed along with his movements. Tears were streaming down my face; if he did it again, I would lose control of my bladder and bowels.

It was just too crazy. It wasn't until it was over that I realized he hadn't used a condom and had ejaculated inside me. At that moment, I could only remain motionless and let him do as he pleased. Afterwards, I angrily questioned him about why he ejaculated inside me, and he actually said that I had consented.

That bastard, was I even conscious at that moment? He took advantage of me while I was vulnerable.

He even told me he regretted not bringing a camera, otherwise recording the semen flowing out of my vagina and my appearance would have driven all the men in the world to their deaths from exhaustion.

We only did it twice that night, but it took the whole night, and as a result, I had to take a sick day the next day. My genitals were swollen, and I swore I would never let him do that to me again.

I suspect he was a demon transformed from a male genital.

Everyone says that everything is difficult at the beginning, and it's true. Once is never enough.

After work on the third day, he invited me and a few of my colleagues to go to karaoke (because of the director's connections and his generous spending and witty conversation, he became an honorary member of our department, and everyone knew him well).

"Oh? You know how to hide now? And you brought so many people? Looks like your lower half sometimes thinks about other things too."

Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention, I chuckled softly. "Of course, even Ximen Qing needed Wang Po to find Pan Jinlian. You need to unite all the forces you can. Missing me?" He quickly pinched my chest, startling me so much I looked around frantically.

"Pervert, delinquent middle-aged man!" When we got to the private room, I deliberately sat far away from him. Seeing his resentful gaze, I felt a small act of revenge.

Singing is definitely my forte. I'm a woman with no particular talent, just good looks and a naturally beautiful voice. (I'm quite narcissistic.) My colleagues know I'm usually very reserved, but when it comes to singing, I become a total "karaoke hog." So, they try to sing songs I can't sing, and they also try to get me to drink. But I'm open to both men and women, so I sing along to everything, whether it's a male or female singer, and the more I drink, the more I sing, and the more I sing, the more I drink. They all say I have bad drinking manners. Although I never get drunk, it always makes a lot of people worry.

After I sang over twenty songs by Faye Wong and Fish Leong, they basically all became my fans.

(They could only listen, haha.) I also drank quite a bit of beer.

When I left the karaoke bar, I was a little ataxia. In my daze, I heard him say he would take me home. I couldn't help but wonder why my colleagues would agree to take a drunk girl home. Did they suspect something?

Thankfully, another colleague got in the car with me, but he'd definitely take her home first. Would this scoundrel pass up the opportunity?

After a while in the cool breeze, I felt less drunk. Sitting in the back, I could see his lewd smile in the rearview mirror whenever I looked up.

"Drive carefully, don't think like that," I thought. I knew I was doomed tonight.

"I finally know what it means to feel like I've been separated from you for ages—it's been a whole night, and I'm practically bursting with desire!"

After a while, the car suddenly stopped.

Where was I? A street that wasn't particularly secluded or busy, with several cars parked.

He opened the car door, and I was about to open mine to get out, but he pulled open the door and got in.

"Are you crazy? Doing this here? No!"

I realized his intentions and struggled to get out of the car.

"It's okay, silly, don't you think this is exciting? Nobody can see outside."

I knew his car window was the kind where the outside couldn't see in, but the inside could see out. But I was really scared in such a bustling place. Although my husband and I had done it in the car before, we always chose secluded, dark places, nothing like this.

But I was no match for him in strength. Before long, my breasts were exposed to the air.

"Okay then—you're so annoying—lock the car—ah—"

His head was already buried between my legs, kissing and biting through my underwear. I was extremely nervous, ignoring the waves of stimulation coming from my lower body, my eyes constantly looking out the window. It was

so bright outside. Even though it was almost eleven o'clock, there were still quite a few people on the street.

"Ah—"

He seemed to notice my distraction and bit my clitoris hard. Now I didn't care about the situation outside anymore. I didn't care even if we were on the street. I only had one thought in my mind: I wanted to release as much as I could.

"No more—hurry up—come in—ah," I kept moaning.

His tongue thrust in and out of my vagina, making me feel extremely uncomfortable.

Finally, his penis entered, without even taking off his underwear.

After I orgasmed again, he made me kneel on the seat and penetrated me deeply from behind. One hand kept rubbing my breasts, while the other pressed my clitoris.

It felt so good, but also so painful. I was exhausted again, with only my buttocks raised high, enduring his repeated penetrations. Luckily,

he was driving a Land Cruiser, which was relatively stable; otherwise, even a fool would know what such a violently shaking car meant.

He ejaculated inside me again; I could feel the hot, rapid impact of his semen.

My underwear was ruined, covered in bodily fluids, semen, and his saliva. He put me down, took off my underwear, and wiped me clean with a tissue.

"I'll take it, wash it clean, and then give it back to you,"

he said, waving the underwear in his hand. "No, then what am I supposed to wear?" "

It's okay, it's so late, what's there to be afraid of? -- Come on, let's go outside and get something to drink."

He must be a pervert, and I actually agreed. Then I stood on the street wearing only these two pieces of clothing: a

bra and a dress. God, am I a pervert too? But why am I so excited? I imagine how serious my usual profession is, and now I'm standing on the street without underwear. Suddenly, I feel like everyone knows my secret, and their eyes are all looking at my genitals. I'm wet again.

All of this was brought about by the man beside me. He made me so lewd, and he made me realize how lewd my body is, giving me so much pleasure. Should I hate him, or thank him?

Sitting in the bar, he watched my awkwardness with interest, pulled me close, and whispered, "Look at you, who knew such a pure and pretty young woman wasn't wearing underwear? -- Do you know how alluring you look right now? I'm getting aroused again. Shall we do it here?"

Before I could protest, he suddenly pulled me onto his lap, his right hand stealthily slipping between my legs.

I was terrified and didn't dare move, afraid of being discovered. Luckily, the bar lights were dim.

"No, no -- please, don't touch me here, it's really not okay."

Although I had admitted my lewdness, I truly didn't have the courage to have sex here; it had crossed my line.

"Okay, then next time we have sex, you have to promise me you'll completely cooperate with me and listen to me,"

he said smugly, his hand still sliding back and forth between my legs.

Fine, I'll agree. Circumstances dictate my actions. I can always break my promise; I'm not a man. But how does he want me to cooperate? What tricks does he have up his sleeve? He seemed somewhat expectant.

"Look, what's this?"

He pulled his hand out of my body, showing me the glistening fluid between his index finger and thumb.

"Do you know what I'm going to do now? I'm going to tell everyone here that this is love fluid flowing from this beautiful lady's beautiful, hairless vulva. I'm going to auction off this drop of love fluid; it can sell for at least ten thousand yuan! Want to try?"

How could he be so naughty? Every time he says something, he can bring me close to orgasm.

"Ugh, you're so annoying, always making fun of me."

I leaned on his shoulder and bit him hard.

As a result, that night when we got home, he did it to me again.

My body became more and more sensitive because of him; even just thinking about him made me produce love fluid.

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