A story of a female dog and a male dog

Even the most captivating stories have an ending, and even the most tedious jokes have a beginning. Rewriting true experiences—
ask me how true some are, some 100%, some half and half, a mix of truth and fiction, some pure fantasy and nonsense
, and some hearsay. I am me, yet not me. In the rush of these past years, I've realized that things in this world
are indeed like this: when falsehood is taken for truth, truth becomes falsehood, and when truth is taken for falsehood, falsehood becomes truth. Whether you believe it or not, whether you like it or not, is up to the observer.

About two years ago, if you had come to my dilapidated rented shack around five or six in the afternoon,
you wouldn't have even reached the door; just standing in the stairwell would have filled the entire building with a woman's rising and falling
moans and shrill, lewd cries.

The sounds were unrestrained and utterly unbridled, even drowning out the cicadas chirping in the willow trees outside in the sweltering summer heat
.

After the woman's hysterical screams, came the screams of "Fuck your mother, you slut, I'll fuck you to pieces,
I'll fuck your cunt to pieces, fuck your bitch's rotten cunt to pieces..." A man's hoarse curses and the sound of his penis
thrusting in and out of the woman's vagina, squeezing the mixture of fluids and remaining air, created
the characteristic "splish, splish" sound of sexual intercourse.

If you're interested, you can confidently follow the sound up to the second floor (though the stairwell is narrow and
cluttered with trash and household items, so be careful). You'll see a room in the dilapidated stairwell with its door fully
open; through the wide-open door, you can clearly find the source of the sound.

Directly opposite the entrance, in a dilapidated, shabby, and even somewhat dirty living room, a
middle-aged woman, completely naked, was blindfolded by her own underwear and suspended from the ceiling by a erotic rope. Her legs were
raised high in an M-shape, with even her thighs completely spread apart. Behind her, a tall, thin man
held her sagging but still plump, eggplant-shaped breasts with one hand, while his other hand lifted one of her
legs, his large, dark penis repeatedly penetrating her vagina. If

you looked closely, you could see that the woman's pubic hair was sparse, only a thin tuft growing around her vulva
, already soaked with her vaginal fluids. Her clitoris was
dark and shiny from prolonged use, a thick, greasy mass, and glistening with a stale sheen from years of intercourse.

"Say you're a rotten bitch, you can't live without a man's stinking cock, say it now." The voice
came from the young man behind her, constantly verbally humiliating the rather voluptuous
older woman in front of him. The woman's vagina was filled to the brim with the man's cock, the layers of black clitoris
jiggling wildly with the intense piston-like movements.

"Say it now, you fucking slut." His hands kept grabbing and pinching the woman's breasts that were jiggling up and down.

"I'm a bitch, I'm your rotten bitch, no, I'm not even a bitch, I'm just a female dog, ah...
your female dog, ah... ah... fuck me, fuck me hard, my cunt just wants to bite a man's dick,
I want a dick, I want a cock, ah... ah..." The woman finally couldn't hold back her violent thrusts,
her head thrown back high, echoing the man's insults, spitting as she screamed loudly.

"I'm going to fuck you to pieces today, you slut." After uttering this vulgarity, the young man, like a
mad dog, increased the speed of his thrusts, his semen gushing out from their tightly intertwined genitals.

The young man was tall and slender, with handsome and delicate features, almost effeminate; it was hard to imagine that such
vulgar and insulting words could come from his mouth.

The man continued to thrust his genitals fiercely, without any technique or method, clearly a vengeful
barrage of blows into the woman's loose vagina.

"You bitch, you're a bitch, you've ruined my life, you bitch. I'll fuck your mother, you've
ruined my first life, I'm going to ruin you completely, I'll fucking ruin your whole family, I'm going to fuck you for the rest of my life, play with
you for the rest of my life, use your rotten cunt to pay back the debt you owe me, I'll fuck your mother!"

The man cursed wildly as he fucked her, biting and biting at the woman's ears and neck like a madman, his hands
twisting and grabbing at her breasts, his almost insane movements seeming as if he wanted to
tear her breasts off alive. The woman, facing such brutality, didn't offer any explanation or resistance, but instead seemed to be
constantly yielding, yet the tear tracks on her face were clearly visible.

Soon, the young man also began to cry silently, tears streaming down his young face onto the woman
's flushed, burning breasts, the cold tears stimulating the naked, mature woman's
skin, which had become hot from the intense sex. Sensing the man crying, the woman tilted her head back, gently and
intimately rubbing her cheek against his contorted face like a loving mother. She extended her moist, agile tongue, moving it up and down, trying to find his
lips. Soon, they were locked in a passionate French kiss. The man's horrified expression seemed to
calm slightly with this gentle caress.

Their lovemaking seemed far from over; like two animals in heat, they continued their
tearful, moaning and cursing intertwined. No one knew whether it was pain, excitement, shame, regret, or
sorrow that drove them. You could only see them sometimes kissing and caressing each other, sometimes biting and struggling, seemingly
trying desperately to escape each other, yet their sex toys remained tightly interlocked, locked together, completely immersed in their perverse and bizarre
sexual encounter.

It was six o'clock in the afternoon. This couple, well, how to describe them? It's indeed a difficult question.
Describing them as lovers or partners seems insulting to love; describing them as sexual partners is
an irony of sex. So, let's just call them a male and female dog (dog lovers, please don't mind, because
describing these two as dogs is indeed an insult to pets). This male and female dog started having sex much
earlier than other couples, and why is the door wide open when they're having sex?

Anyone with experience living in a low-rent shack knows that these places are crowded, with houses right next to each other,
offering virtually no privacy. Moreover, anyone can see that these two are a destitute, vulgar, and shameless
older woman and younger man couple. If they live in such a filthy place, their character is self-evident
.

If you find their lewd dog-like mating amusing, you can stand at the door and watch, but...
He wouldn't mind, and of course, the woman in front of him had even less right to mind.

If you stood there a little longer, you'd encounter residents coming home from work in droves. Some of them,
like you, would stop and watch for a while. Some middle-aged women might spit at the two of them
and curse, "Shameless bastards." But most would just walk by quietly, seemingly unfazed.
However, if you looked closely, you'd see that most of them would still have their eyes wandering, unable to resist peeking at the scene inside.

Only the few middle school kids living upstairs would stop
with great interest to watch their lovemaking when they passed by the door after school, but they wouldn't dare watch for too long because
they knew their parents could come back at any moment. And whenever he sensed someone watching, the man would become
even more frantic and energetic, showing off and pervertedly playing with his mature prey in front of his penis.

You might doubt the reality of what's happening before your eyes. Why are the residents upstairs so unfazed? It
seems like an exaggeration. But I'm sorry, this part is indeed true. This
shantytown, still marked with a large "Demolition" sign, along with several other dilapidated buildings around it, were all slated for demolition.
Due to the developer's financial difficulties, they were left idle for many years.

This is a rural-urban fringe area far from the city center, with inconvenient transportation. After the demolition project stalled, it became
a low-rent shack for migrant workers and impoverished people from all walks of life. The five-story, crooked building where this couple lives
only houses eight or nine families, a total of over twenty people. Apart from four elderly people who have difficulty walking and six women
, all the other men in the building have had sex with this woman, including several boys still in junior high school.

Still don't understand? Let me explain further. This building is one of those live poultry shops in the urban-rural fringe, commonly
known as a brothel. The woman is a streetwalker; sex—no, to be precise—being fucked is her job.
The poor, penniless migrant workers, thugs, and laborers who occasionally come upstairs for a quickie
are her bread and butter. The man behind her is her cuckold, her cuckold
.

Once the whole building knows what's going on, what do you think they have left to hide? Besides, they're already
twisted and perverted. When this twistedness reaches a certain point, having sex in front of others becomes
the best way to find a sense of existence. How can the world know I was here? A life that withers before it even blooms
—who knows your brilliance? Then you can only scream and have sex, expose your shame and depravity
to everyone.

Why ask me? How do you know so much? Well, you guessed right. That delicate-looking young man is
me, a young, handsome, but now impoverished green-skinned turtle, and that woman is the
bitch who ruined me. This is the beginning of the story of a bitch and a turtle, the starting point of a never-ending, ill-fated romance
…

Almost twenty minutes later, it finally ended. I pulled out my wet, long penis, feeling my legs go weak. I was really
tired. I turned and went to the kitchen to get a thermos, took a few sips, then sat
down in front of the door to cool off, holding the thermos in one hand and a chair in the other. But my hand still unconsciously fiddled with my penis. I took a sip of water—actually,
the bottle didn't contain water, but rather a concoction of tea I bought elsewhere, the kind of strong aphrodisiac tea. As for why I
like it, and the tea's origin, I'll explain later.

My mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts, nothing good, just a horrific, bestial plan. If it succeeded
, all would be well; if it failed, it might be a crime. I hadn't decided to put that bitch down yet; I'd let her
hang there a little longer.

Sitting in the chair, I looked down at my increasingly thin body. I thought back to before I met this bitch;
I used to work out regularly, even developing a well-defined six-pack. Now,
I could only vaguely see the outline of my muscles. This bitch had really dragged me down; she'd ruined my comfortable life, turning me into this poor mess.

Just then, a head popped out from the doorway. It was
an old man with a receding hairline, balding in the middle and only a sliver of hair around the edges. I recognized him; he was a drunkard from the next building, probably a car mechanic. I
didn't know how he survived, and I didn't care. His wife had divorced him, and he'd been single for almost
five or six years, so prostitution was his only source of sexual sustenance. Unfortunately, he was often broke; it seemed he
had some spare cash today.

"Hey bro, gotta hang out. Looking for a girl here..." he mumbled.

"Ah...ah...how many times have you been? Pay upfront, pay upfront. 200 for sex, 60 extra for oral sex."
I couldn't hold back any longer and impatiently replied, "How many times have you been? Why are you asking? If you want to play, pay up now
, otherwise forget it." "

100 okay? I'll make up the rest next time. Bro, do me a favor."

Honestly, hearing that made me really itchy, but then I thought about how it'd been all day and this bitch
hadn't even had a customer. I hardly work anymore; all my income comes from this bitch's cunt.
100 yuan isn't much, but it's still money. Oh well, fine. I waved him in.

That old drunkard had been here several times before, so he knew the ropes. He quickly stripped her naked and shoved his dick
into her cunt.

"Hey, I just finished fucking her, and you didn't even tell her to wash up."

"Hehe, brother, you don't understand. A woman's vagina is like a car engine;
it only runs smoothly if it's lubricated..."

Hmph, I couldn't refute that for a moment...

Suddenly, my phone rang in my pants. The sound startled me, and I nervously walked
to the coat rack, rummaging through my pocket for my phone. "The ceremony officially begins tomorrow at 3 PM. No lateness allowed
."

A wave of fear washed over me. What was bound to happen was bound to happen...

My meeting with her was truly indescribable; it was extremely, extremely accidental.
Several years ago, I was only 24 years old. That winter, during the Spring Festival, I was on winter break. The following year, I would graduate, and my parents
arranged for me to deliver New Year's gifts to several families—relatives and friends of my parents who might be able to help me find a job
.

I remember the last house we visited that day was to a friend of my parents' from the tax bureau, a minor section chief. He wasn't
home that day, but his wife was. After some pleasantries, I left my gift. The woman was used to receiving gifts,
and I guess she didn't even like what I brought. She got impatient after a short while and wisely left. Just before I was about to leave
, the old woman said, "A young man's appearance is very important. Your hair looks like a bird's nest.
Why don't you tidy yourself up for the New Year?"

I really wanted to get angry, but I held back. I went downstairs and drove home, thinking, "Damn
it, you bunch of maggots, who would pay attention to you if you weren't government employees?"

I was very upset about being snubbed, so I drove a bit fast. When I reached a traffic light, it was already
yellow. I was about to accelerate through, but just as I was about to cross the line, an old man who collected scrap metal
suddenly ran out, forcing me to slam on the brakes.

"Damn it," I thought to myself, feeling inexplicably annoyed. But seeing
the light was already red, I had no choice but to wait. With nothing else to do, I glanced at the rearview mirror and noticed my hair was indeed quite messy
; it really needed a trim.

That's how many things in life are; you can't really explain what's going on. Thinking this, I
glanced around and noticed the colored
indicator light for a barbershop called "Good Craftsmanship" on the street corner across the road was still on. Considering it was only the eighth day of the Lunar New Year, there probably weren't many barbershops open. I suddenly hesitated
.

"Maybe I should just find somewhere to get a haircut. I don't really care about hairstyles; I've always just wanted a clean,
simple cut."

Speaking of my hairstyle, from childhood until university, I'd always had what we call a "horse-egg head"
—a very short haircut. I should probably get a haircut; the New Year is almost over, and my hair should at least be tidied up
. The light turned green, so I drove over, turned at the intersection, and entered the alley
. I parked, got out, and headed to the shop.

As soon as I arrived, I heard loud pop music playing from inside. The shop had a typical double sliding door; being a casual
person, I didn't knock and just opened it.

The first thing I saw was a slightly chubby, somewhat awkward-looking boy (about fifteen or sixteen years old) hunched
over a table doing his homework. The shop was a converted garage, with two rooms on either side. It was fairly
spacious, but rather low; at 1.88 meters tall, I felt a little awkward standing inside.

Behind the boy was an electric water heater and a shampoo bed. On the east side of the room were two dressing tables and a mirror,
with various scissors, hair rollers, a hairdryer, and electric clippers piled up in front of them.

The music was probably a bit loud, because the chubby boy didn't seem to notice me coming in. Looking closer, I saw
a woman sitting with her back to me in a chair, seemingly fiddling with her phone. She was wearing a
white coat, the kind doctors often wear in hospitals.

She must have just washed her hair; it was still wet and hung down her back, leaving a
water stain on her white coat. The air was filled with the distinctive smell of shampoo from a small hair salon. This must be the owner, right?
But from behind, the woman had a truly stunning figure; her back was smooth and graceful, the beautiful lines
extending from her slender neck to her full hips—definitely curvaceous. She did
n't seem very old.

I asked, "Do you still need a haircut?" Hearing a voice behind me, the woman quickly turned around.

Turning around wasn't the young girl I'd imagined, but a woman in her late thirties or early thirties.
She was quite pretty, with rounded features, a delicate nose (though slightly wide at the nostrils), and
particularly captivating eyes.

When she saw me, she smiled kindly, her beautiful eyes narrowing
slightly. Her eyeliner, naturally upturned, gave her a slightly alluring smile, a warm and friendly quality
that stirred a strange unease within me. Could this shop be...that kind of place?
I desperately hoped it was.

She put her phone on the table, stood up, and beckoned me over. Instinctively, I looked her up and down
: She had a truly alluring figure; she was almost 1.7 meters tall, wearing only a simple
white coat, without any embellishment, yet she didn't look ordinary at all.

The thin, flowing gown accentuated her curvaceous figure, outlining the contours of her full breasts,
which were faintly visible. The rolled-up sleeves revealed two long, slender, white arms,
hanging naturally at her slender, snake-like waist. Her waist, seemingly fragile, swayed from side to side with the movement of her hips
, inevitably arousing nameless lust.

Most striking were her two long, dazzlingly beautiful legs; perhaps because the room was warm from the
stove, she wore only tight denim shorts over her long thighs, leaving her legs completely exposed
, making one's mouth water at the sight.

On her feet were a pair of colorful plastic slippers, her ankles rounded and beautifully shaped, her ten toes
adorned with bright red nail polish. Her freshly washed, medium-length hair cascaded casually over her shoulders, its disheveled yet alluring quality
making her striking and undeniably charming face even more captivating.

As I stood there, lost in thought, she approached me. "Handsome, getting a haircut?" I could feel my
cheeks flushing involuntarily.

"Ah, how much...how much for a men's haircut?" Ugh, pathetic, I stammered.

"Ten yuan. Are you planning to style your hair?" she replied.

"No, just a regular cut," I continued.

"Okay, here, have a seat." Her face remained radiant with a gentle smile as she gestured to the chair in front of her,
indicating that I should sit down.

I went over and sat down. She carefully wrapped a towel around my neck, laid out a white curtain, and
dampened my somewhat dry hair. Then, she picked up the electric clippers and skillfully began to trim and trim my hair. As my hair
fell in a rustling sound, I couldn't help but peek at her in the dressing mirror.

She worked with a serious expression, unlike some hairdressers who
chatter on and on, trying to sell you things and making you feel annoyed.
She just quietly cut your hair, carefully and meticulously, as if afraid of making even the slightest mistake. For some reason, I felt her
expression was so warm…

I glanced at her slightly open neckline, and my eyes lingered for a moment—
she seemed to be braless, and the two prominent nipples on her slightly bulging white coat were faintly visible. Perhaps
she had just showered, so… Instantly, an image of a mature, beautiful body wrapped in that pure white coat flashed through my mind—
what an incredible sight that would be.

Although I was already 24 years old that year, I had almost no experience with women. Once, on my birthday, I
went to a karaoke bar with friends and was forced to masturbate by a woman in her early twenties, which took less than
a minute. Another time, I went on a business trip to the south with a colleague. Late at night, my buddy called
two prostitutes. He was being generous, not wanting to keep a "chicken" to himself, but I couldn't refuse and forced myself on
one. As a result, the prostitute had barely started giving me oral sex and kissed my glans a few times when my unreliable
"thing" ejaculated prematurely, and I couldn't even get it to penetrate.

Both of these incidents left me humiliated and embarrassed in front of others. My already insecure
personality became even more introverted, to the point that I hated people discussing sex in public. But today, with
such a charming mature woman so close to me—close enough to feel her breath and warmth—
I couldn't help but become a little uneasy. Gradually, I started staring at her figure, lost in thought.

"Hey, what are you looking at? I'm talking to you!" Oh no, my brazen gaze had finally caught her attention.
Now this was incredibly awkward.

She tossed the electric hair clipper onto the dressing table, then turned and walked behind me. I turned back, somewhat surprised
. She walked a few steps to the chubby boy, twisted his ear, and said, "Hey, ca
n't you just do your homework properly? Look at you, you haven't even finished two and a half questions! School starts on the sixteenth of the first lunar month
, will you ever finish your summer homework? Huh! What are you looking at? Looking outside! If you don't finish three pages of homework today, don't even
think about watching TV..."

The boy retorted indignantly, and she launched into another tirade. A few minutes later, the argument subsided. She came back
behind me and, looking through the vanity mirror, said, "I'm sorry, this child is so naughty, I really can't leave
him alone for a while."

I smiled and said, "It's okay." We remained silent as she quietly cut my hair.
She quickly tidied up the messy style, then leaned closer to me in the mirror and said, "Look,
how is it? Is there anything that needs fixing?"

I looked in the mirror too. "Trim the left side a little shorter, I'm busy with work and can't get my hair cut often." As I spoke
, my eyes wandered to her chest.

"Any shorter and it won't look good, it looks better a little longer," she replied.

"I'll cut it shorter," I said after a moment's thought; she didn't reply, just smiled at me, and then picked up the scissors
and began trimming. A moment later, she brushed the hair off my shoulders, removed the white curtain, took off
the towel around my neck, and patted my shoulder.

"Okay, it can't be any shorter, or your scalp will be showing."

I got up and looked at myself carefully in the mirror. It was indeed a good cut, the length was just right, and it showed off my handsome face
. "Thank you!" I said, then took out my wallet to pay. "Hey, aren't you going to wash it?"
she asked. I'm tall, so she took a step back, looked up at me, and said, "
It must be so uncomfortable to have hair all over you."

I thought about it, and she was right. "I'll wash it then," I replied.

As I spoke, I followed her to the shampoo bed behind the chubby boy. "Go back to your homework, I'll
check it in a bit." As she passed by the chubby boy, she didn't forget to give him a reminder to study hard.

I lay diagonally on the bed next to the shampoo sink as she began washing my hair. I squinted upwards, and
the glimpses of her breasts through her white coat were right in front of my face. I could clearly feel a pair of plump mounds of flesh rolling and bouncing inside the loose fabric
. I couldn't bear to look any longer; lewd desires kept
surfacing in my mind, so I tightly closed my eyes.

She worked skillfully, and soon finished washing my hair and drying it. "That's completely done now," the female owner
patted me, gesturing for me to get up. I looked in the mirror again—perfect. I quickly took out my money and paid her.

After receiving the money, she suddenly stood on tiptoe and playfully measured my height with her hand. "Hey, handsome,
how tall are you? You're so big!" she said with her gentle smile.

"1.88 meters," I replied somewhat awkwardly, unsure what to say. She didn't say anything, just kept smiling
, then opened the little chubby boy's homework drawer and slipped the money inside.

I felt quite pleased to have met such a beautiful proprietress. It's a pity this place is far from home; I
probably won't be able to come here again. As I turned to walk towards the door, I noticed
two massage beds in another room. I hadn't noticed them before because the room was dark. They were probably
the kind of beds used in massage parlors. That eerie thought immediately returned. I opened the door but didn't go out. Standing in
the doorway, my voice trembled slightly as I asked, "Do you...do you do massages here?"

The female owner seemed slightly surprised by my question. She glanced down at the child beside the table and then looked up,
saying, "Ah, we do massages, but it's just traditional Chinese massage. Sometimes, some regular customers feel uncomfortable after a haircut
, so we give them a massage."

"How much is it per session?" I asked, feeling embarrassed and unable to look her in the eye. "30 for a partial massage,
half an hour, 50 for a full body massage, but if there are customers getting haircuts, we have to prioritize them," she
answered calmly. Without looking at me again, she picked up a broom and bent down to sweep the floor. Suddenly feeling
awkward, I didn't say anything, turned around, closed the door, and left.

Once in the car, I sat in the driver's seat, and inexplicably, couldn't start the engine for a long time. A strange feeling welled up inside me .
The urge I had been suppressing kept crashing against my heart. My mind was filled with the
image of the two alluring mounds of flesh blurred beneath the female boss's white coat. I hesitated for a long time, unable to calm the turmoil within me.
Finally, I took a deep breath, opened the car door, locked it, and went back to the door…

When she saw me again, she seemed slightly surprised. She had already changed her clothes and
put on a coat, and was sweeping the floor inside, probably planning to go home.

My face burning red, I said, "A full-body massage… a massage, ma'am… I hope I'm not disturbing you?"

She didn't answer immediately, continued tidying up the hair on the floor for a while, and then said somewhat coldly, "Then…
you can go to the inner room first." But her eyes seemed to be avoiding mine. We went into the inner room one after the other.
She turned on the fluorescent light, and I finally saw the furnishings inside.

There were indeed two massage beds. The walls on both sides were covered with diagrams of acupoints on the human body and the soles of the feet.
A large portrait hung on the middle wall; it seemed to be a deity with many small human heads on its head, and its feet appeared
to be resting on a human-shaped blanket, but it didn't look like a blanket. I didn't know which sect's deity it belonged to. There were no
windows in the room, only a small hairdryer on the wall facing the street.

In one corner was a small square table with cupping sets, an alcohol lamp, and a
pile of books about half a meter high. It seemed I had overthought things; I suddenly wished I had gone back earlier
.

However, there was a pile of things in the northeast corner of the room, covered with a tarpaulin; I didn't know what they were. The room
was very clean, and the sheets on the window were neatly arranged.

"Lie down, hey, take off your coat first," the landlady behind me said. I grew a little
bolder and, under the bright fluorescent light, carefully examined the female boss from head to toe. To be honest,
upon closer inspection, her appearance was only "okay." Her skin wasn't fair, but it wasn't dark either—a slightly tanned, healthy
complexion, the kind of skin tone many fitness enthusiasts achieve through UV exposure. But her figure was truly amazing, completely
unlike that of a middle-aged woman. Most women start to gain weight in their thirties, especially around the stomach and waist
, but this female boss's figure was not only in good shape, but could even be described as well-proportioned and athletic.

"Get on the bed, will you?" The boss's questioning voice interrupted my thoughts. With a guilty conscience, I climbed onto
the bed. "Turn over, starting with your back,"

she said when she saw me lying flat on the bed facing her, her eyes revealing a hint of disdain. I turned
my back to her, feeling quite uncomfortable, mainly because she had been rather dismissive of me earlier. Perhaps
she had guessed that my return was somewhat ill-intentioned, hence her
cold attitude from the moment I entered, making me feel like I'd made a fool of myself.

But what could I do? She was already here. Lying on the bed, I thought to myself. She unbuttoned
my collar, loosened it, and then placed a white handkerchief on my back,
beginning a massage. She started with my back, her technique excellent, the pressure and pressure points spot-on—it felt very comfortable. It seemed she
really was a legitimate business; perhaps my hormones were raging and I was overthinking things. But why did I feel this way…?
Never mind, I haven't been feeling well these past few days, my whole body aches. I'll just treat it as a treat.

Embarrassingly, one of the techniques in traditional Chinese massage involves pressing acupoints on the groin area. When she had me
turn over and placed her soft hands between my legs to massage, my crotch unceremoniously
bulged, and anyone could clearly see the "tent" protruding from my genitals. I could only
close my eyes tightly, not daring to look at her, but she seemed unaffected, her massage still firm
…

"Why do you have so many particles on your body?" she asked gently, like a mother to her child, so affectionate
.

"What are particles?" I asked, puzzled.

"They're impurities in your body. If they can't be expelled normally, they stay in your muscles, making you feel
uncomfortable. You need to drink more water and exercise more to expel these particles, otherwise it's bad for your health.
And does this hurt…?" she explained some health knowledge to me softly while massaging me.

An hour passed quickly. She patted my back, and I, already feeling comfortably drowsy, knew it
was time to get up.

I rubbed my sleepy eyes, got up, straightened my clothes, took out 50 yuan from my wallet, and handed it to her. She
took the money, still keeping her head down, not looking at me, but I could see her face was slightly flushed. Maybe she was tired,
or maybe… I shouldn't indulge in wishful thinking. I've always been an insecure person, and I've never been
popular with women. It seems today will be the same.

I said to her, "Thank you, boss." She hesitated for a moment, then coldly replied, "You're too
kind. You pay, I provide service; it's my duty." Then I slunk away from the hair salon.

This was our first meeting in our lives, so simple, so simple that I should
have forgotten her the next day, but if only it could have been like this…

Back home, I ate a quick dinner and lay down on the bed early, but couldn't fall asleep. My mind was filled with
her image, especially her thighs and those breasts hidden deep beneath her white coat. If only I could
fuck this beautiful young woman hard… Thinking this, my hand involuntarily reached into my underwear, grabbed my already swollen
penis, and started masturbating.

My penis isn't small; I once measured it with a ruler when I had nothing to do. When fully erect, it's about 18 centimeters long. Because my penis
is slightly curved to the right, it might be even longer if straightened. But I'm not a very strong man; I
can't even last three minutes with oral sex. Of course, it might also be because I had little sexual experience at the time, but all of this
made me very self-conscious.

Within two minutes, I felt my penis begin to throb with pleasure. I knew I was about to reach my limit again
. I ripped off my underwear, pulled back the covers, and started rubbing myself faster,
letting out a happy, pig-like squeal. "Ah..." I let out a soft growl, and streams of semen
shot powerfully yet emptyly into the sky, spraying everywhere. I looked up, panting, at the sky.
The ceiling was dark and quiet.

"What are you fiddling with again? Playing on your phone in the middle of the night, huh? Play, play, play! Aren't you afraid of ruining your eyes
?" My mother's sudden scolding from outside the door startled me, and I hurriedly pulled the covers over myself…

[The End]

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A story of a female dog and a male dog

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