Aunt Wang, who is retired

This was the only older woman I encountered at Green Lake. Although she wasn't beautiful anymore, the experience of interacting with her was still quite interesting. One midday, while wandering alone along the lakeshore deep in the forest, I noticed a woman in a pink dress sitting on a stone bench not far away. She was facing away from me, quite tall, with slender shoulders, not particularly plump, and shoulder-length, somewhat disheveled hair, resembling that of a housewife. I observed her from a distance for a few minutes, and seeing that she didn't seem to be waiting for anyone, I decided to try my luck.

I stood behind her for a while, then sat down next to her. After nearly two years of experience hunting for women, I was quite adept at approaching them. She glanced at me but didn't say anything. The instant she turned around, I saw—good heavens! So old, yet dressed so brightly! She had a fair complexion, an oval face, and a well-maintained figure; she must have been very alluring in her youth. But the ravages of time had mercilessly etched deep lines on her face—crow's feet at the corners of her eyes and streaks of gray in her hair told me she had completely bid farewell to her youthful beauty. For a moment, I felt a pang of nervousness. Should I release the arrow or not? After hesitating for a while, I remembered a friend's joke: "Eat chicken, eat young chicken; fuck, fuck old cunt." Only this cunt was a bit too old, haha! Thinking of this, I felt relieved. Whatever, I'd give it a try; something is better than nothing. I asked her if she was there to exercise. She said she lived far away. After hesitating for a while, I remembered a friend's joke: "Eat chicken, eat young chicken; fuck, fuck, fuck old cunt." Only this cunt was a bit too old, haha! Thinking of this, I felt relieved. Whatever, I'd give it a try; something is better than nothing.

I asked her if she was there to exercise, and she said she lived far away and didn't exercise there. She was bored at home and came out for a walk. I asked her why she didn't bring her husband, and she said her husband passed away when she was 25, and she hadn't remarried. Her son was very good to her, but now that he was married, he didn't come home often, and she felt very empty.

I asked her how old her child was, and she said 28 (a year older than me, haha!). I said, "Then you're still young, right?" She said she was old, 49. She was well-maintained; although she looked like she was in her forties, she didn't look like a woman approaching fifty. She asked if I was a university student, and I told her I was a university teacher and didn't have classes today, so I was just out for a stroll. She then asked if my wife was also a teacher, and I lied and said I was divorced and lived alone. In my experience, with mature women, including older women, you have to admit you're married, but complain about your marriage, or simply say you're divorced. This way, they'll feel like they're playing with a lonely, mature man—exciting and trustworthy. She asked me why I got divorced, and I made up a whole "unfortunate"

story. She listened with a heavy sigh and offered me comforting words from a mother's perspective. We sat and talked for a long time. She said her surname was Wang, so I casually called her Aunt Wang.

I kept praising her throughout the conversation, saying she was gentle, kind, and understanding. I told her that if we were the same age, I would definitely pursue her. In this way, our conversation shifted from topics similar to a mother admonishing her son to equal topics about gender. I stared at her firm nipples (for such an old woman, her breasts were still so firm, clearly thanks to a bra), and boldly talked to her about sex, about my loneliness and needs, the frustration of not having a suitable partner in my life, and my disdain for prostitution, portraying myself as an upright but troubled man. She said she understood me, knowing that men can't live without women, and that men as chaste as me were indeed rare. She encouraged me to keep it up, saying I would find my soulmate. She also told me her thoughts on sex, saying she had been with several men (I imagine they all slept together), and they were all good to her, but she hadn't remarried for the sake of her children. By the time her children grew up and understood her, the men who had pursued her were already married. She said she had sexual urges in her dreams, but not in real life; she just felt lonely and bored and wanted someone to talk to. She wasn't the type of woman who was easily tempted; she wouldn't actively think about it unless a man touched her. Hearing her say this, I thought, what if I tried?

At Green Lake, I hadn't touched her yet; she was the first older woman I'd met, and I wasn't sure how to get her. We chatted for a while, then she got up and said she had to leave, as it was too late and the buses were too crowded. She invited me to visit her house sometime. I checked my watch; it was only a little past 2 pm, so I said I'd take her home so she could get acquainted with her neighborhood. She readily agreed. The bus wasn't too crowded; there was a long seat left in the last row. The window seat was already occupied, so I sat near the door, while she sat in the middle, close together. My right hand was on the door handle, and my left hand naturally rested on the seat behind her. The bus was very noisy; everyone had to speak loudly to talk. We didn't want to strain ourselves, so we chatted intermittently. Perhaps a little sleepy from midday, I noticed her eyelids were drooping, so I lowered my head and remained silent. Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes, and she lurched forward, almost sliding off her seat. I reacted quickly, grabbing her waist and holding her tightly. Once she was settled, she gave me a grateful and trusting smile, and my arms loosened. But her waist felt so soft; I couldn't bear to let go, also wanting to see her reaction. After the jolt of the sudden stop, she was fully awake. She didn't seem to mind me putting my arm around her waist; instead, she leaned against me, chatting about everyday things.

I don't know how much time passed, but the bus stopped at the flat glass factory stop in the western suburbs, and we got off there. Speaking of the flat glass factory, I seem to have a knack for connecting with the women there. Three years later, I met a young married woman there—but that's another story. Aunt Wang's living conditions were quite good. Perhaps because she was a long-time employee, the factory had allocated her a two-bedroom apartment with a kitchen and bathroom. The room was simply furnished, probably because she had saved all her money for her son's wedding, but it was very tidy, with fresh flowers on the coffee table, showing a woman's love of beauty. She poured me a cup of tea, saying that the conditions were a bit basic, but I should just make do with sitting here for a while. Then she sat down next to me and we turned on the TV to watch together. The TV was showing a Taiwanese romance drama, with characters deeply in love and madly devoted to each other. Aunt Wang is a sentimental person, and her eyes welled up with tears as she watched. I quickly handed her a tissue, and she wiped away her tears a little shyly, then blew her nose in front of me (a gesture that probably only older women would do, haha!). When the TV showed scenes of young men and women embracing and kissing, and men caressing women's hair and faces, I glanced over and saw her lips trembling slightly, a blush rising on her fair face, and her hands rubbing her thighs. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt I should touch her. So, I pretended to be filled with intense desire for our relationship and unable to control myself, and suddenly pulled her hand to my chest, stroking it eagerly. Her eyes were fixed on the TV, and she let me kiss and caress her hand at will. Seeing that she didn't resist, I suddenly pounced on her, cupped her face, and kissed her red lips. Our tongues immediately intertwined in her mouth. We closed our eyes, and she gently stroked my hair, kissing me passionately for a long, long time.

My penis hardened, and I felt a rush of heat to my head. I couldn't help but move my hand to her chest. As soon as I touched her firm bra, she trembled and immediately pushed me away, saying repeatedly, "No, no, I'm probably older than your mother, I can't be with you..." I covered her mouth with my hand and said, "Aunt Wang, don't think so much. We're a man and a woman now..." She pushed my hand away, pouted, and said, "Look, you still call me aunt. I'm so much older than you, it's not okay..." I knew I had said the wrong thing and quickly corrected myself, "Sister Wang, you're not old. I think you're very beautiful. I love you so much..." As I said this, I pressed down on her again. I kissed her tightly on the lips, while simultaneously reaching inside her clothes to lift her bra and grasp her soft breasts in my hands. Perhaps I was too impulsive, squeezing her breasts too roughly, because she broke the kiss with a shushing sound and twisted my hand, saying, "Be gentle, you're hurting me." I knew she had given her permission, so I quickly lifted her clothes, pressed my face against hers, and took one of her nipples into my mouth, sucking and licking it with abandon. With one hand, I kneaded her other sagging breast. Her breasts were very white, but the areolas were wrinkled a lot, which must have been caused by many men who had suckled her breasts in the past. She opened her mouth, breathing heavily, and kept scratching my back with her hands.

My hand moved to her thigh, urgently stroking her inner thigh. After kneading for a while, I pressed my hand against her vulva through her panties and rubbed it. "Oh...oh..." she gasped, her hands tightly holding me in her arms... Seeing her aroused, I stood up and carried her to the bed. As soon as I placed her buttocks on the edge of the bed, I pounced on her and pushed her onto the bed, quickly tearing off her stockings and panties.

I had assumed her vulva would be wet, but when I parted her thighs, her labia weren't moist at all. Only her slightly parted, tender, red vaginal opening had a slight sheen of moisture. I pulled out my hard penis, the swollen, purple glans aimed at her vaginal opening, but it wouldn't go in. She hissed and said, "Gently, gently, you're hurting me." I thought, older women are different from young girls. Even though she was in heat, her body reacted slowly. So I gently rubbed the head of my penis against her vaginal opening. She spread her legs and tried her best to cooperate. After a while, my big cock finally went into her vagina! After slowly thrusting for a while, her vagina finally became lubricated. I lifted her legs and started to fuck her hard! "Oh...oh...it's been so long, I really want to..." she murmured weakly, her eyes half-open. Seeing this, I lifted her legs even higher, making her body arch, and pressed my whole body between her legs. My thick penis thrust hard against her vaginal opening, trying my best to push my big cock deep into her vagina! "Oh... be gentle, my stomach hurts..." she groaned, her brow furrowed. I felt my glans pushing against her uterus, sliding back and forth inside her. Ignoring her pleas, I grabbed her hair and continued fucking her, saying, "Auntie, enjoy the power of a strong man!" "Ah... ah..."

she covered her stomach with her hands, protesting, "I'm not your auntie, I'm not..." I thrust my huge cock into her again and again, pulling her disheveled hair, saying, "You are my auntie, I'm committing incest with you, I'm fucking your cunt, defiling your auntie!!" "Oh... oh... you bad boy... you seduced me..." Watching her as I fucked her hard... Her hair was disheveled, her face flushed, and her body swayed back and forth with the thrusting of my large penis. I gripped her nipples tightly, pushing my penis as deep as possible into her vagina, and roared, "Auntie, I'm going to ejaculate inside you!" With that, as my penis moved naturally, passionate semen sprayed out, flooding her vagina and uterus. "Ah...ah..." Her eyes were tightly closed, gripping the pillowcase tightly. I felt the strong contractions of her vagina, one after another... until my slowly softening penis was squeezed out by her vaginal muscles...

Afterwards, she leaned against me and said, "Aren't you a little perverted, thinking about incest?" I told her it wasn't perverted; men subconsciously have these thoughts, but they usually don't act on them because family love suppresses sexual desire. She said that when her son was little, he would play around with her in bed, and touching her breasts would give him pleasure, but she never dared to think about it in that way. I laughed and pinched her breast, saying, "You really dare to think like that? Your son's first time might be with you." She squirmed in my arms and said, "I wouldn't, my thoughts aren't as complicated as yours." We lay there for a while, then I got up and said I had to leave. She insisted I stay, but how could I? So I made an excuse, saying, "Today is my mother's birthday, I have to go back, I'll come see you again later." She sighed and said, "I'm still your aunt, I can't compare to your mother." I sucked on her nipple and said, "My incestuous thoughts and actions are only for you, my aunt. To my mother, it's just mother-son affection." A little over a week later, on Saturday, I took some time to have sex with her again, but it didn't feel good. She was older after all, and it was hard for her to get wet. Besides, her sexiness in bed couldn't compare to that of a young woman or a married woman. That night, her son was going home for a family reunion, so she didn't ask me to stay. After that, I never went to see her again.

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