Many years of acid

After graduation, like millions of other young people, I came to a southern city to work, full of ambition. That's where I met my wife. She, like me, was also a working girl pursuing her dreams. I'm quite grateful for this restless era; otherwise, we, from thousands of miles apart, would never have been able to come together. My

wife is a beautiful woman, not too young, not too old. She has a pretty face, and while her figure isn't top-tier, it's above average. The saying "Sichuan produces beauties" is certainly true. Her skin is amazing; the unique climate of Sichuan makes them all flawless and dazzlingly white. Especially incredible is that this slender woman possesses a pair of naturally large C-cup breasts. While not considered voluptuous, they are quite rare among East Asians. I initially pursued her because of her face and those breasts—don't laugh! Beautiful women naturally have high standards, and pursuing her was quite an effort. Not only did I have to rack my brains to win her heart, but I also had to deal with the swarm of flies buzzing around her. There was no way around it. No matter where you are, beautiful women always attract attention... Fortunately, perseverance pays off. After countless failures, I finally managed to get into her bed one dark and moonlit night. That night, we went wild five times. After three times, my wife couldn't take it anymore and kept complaining of being tired and sleepy... I finished the last two times while she was asleep, I'm ashamed... Anyway, that night I basically didn't let my penis stand on its own. As soon as it got hard, I thrust it into that place that men dream of, until it went limp and was forced out by her hole. Later, my wife jokingly called me a machine, a stallion... Men, when they taste lust for the first time, are bound to go crazy like fanatics. What

's even more ridiculous is that I only remember holding my wife and thrusting wildly that night, I didn't even see what her vagina looked like. For the next few days, I felt very regretful, thinking that if she never spoke to me again, I wouldn't even know what her genitals looked like, wouldn't that be such a loss?! Fortunately, this was just my imagination. Once a woman's body is taken by a man, coupled with a few sweet words, she is basically unable to resist. My wife was the same. It wasn't a casual fling; it was a serious relationship. Besides, we had already slept together, so it was natural for it to happen again... So, a few days later, we had sex a second time. This time, I didn't miss the opportunity. When I was holding her legs and examining her from all angles, my wife asked me in confusion what I was looking at. I said I wanted to remember what it looked like so I wouldn't forget my way around later... My wife giggled and said, "You went in and looked five times last time, and you still haven't remembered?" I said, "Little brother is little brother, and I am me. What's five times? I want to see it for a lifetime..." Women are easily moved, and perhaps swayed by my last sentence, my wife excitedly rolled onto me, grabbed my penis with one hand, rubbed it against her entrance a few times, and then plopped down inside. Thus, another epic battle began... My wife is actually quite interesting. She can be quite demure, like a little bird clinging to its nest, but she can also be very uninhibited in bed, daring to say anything and do anything.

My first woman was my wife, so naturally there was no comparison at first. I work in purchasing, and given the current state of affairs in China, sexual bribery is unavoidable. Lust is the greatest temptation in the world. I'm not a saint; I've never been able to remain unmoved by a woman in my lap. On the contrary, I easily succumb to temptation. So much later, after dating respectable women and frequenting brothels, I finally understood that my wife wasn't just beautiful; she also possessed a truly exceptional vagina. Although I still don't know what a truly exceptional vagina looks like, my wife's was definitely different. The key was its tightness. I've tried women with tight openings before, but they were only tight at the entrance; the inside was quite loose. Aside from the base of my penis being tightly gripped by the opening, there wasn't anything special. Most of the women I've tried had average vaginas, neither tight nor loose. But my wife was different. Her vagina was tight from beginning to end. From the initial entry to the full penetration, that feeling of pressure accompanied you constantly. Thrusting wasn't difficult; it was the constant gripping and the urge to break through the resistance that stimulated you from start to finish, driving you crazy. She could even control it freely. If you told her to tighten, she would hold her breath, and you could feel another tightening on your penis. Unlike the Dongguan girls, she can't coordinate her movements with the man's thrusting, like gripping tightly when penetrated deeply and relaxing when pulled out. My wife only moves when I tell her to squeeze tighter, so I only tell her to squeeze tighter when I'm on the verge of climaxing. Being squeezed by her makes my erection incredibly strong and frequent, the pleasure is indescribable, but afterwards I feel completely drained... Actually, I'm quite sad. After being exposed to my wife's amazing vagina, other women seem uninteresting. Every time, I ejaculate completely inside my wife's vagina, feeling a sense of being drained, while other women never give me that same unbridled release. Sometimes I even doubt whether I've ejaculated at all... So most of the time, I'd rather stay home and satisfy my lust with my wife than actively go out to hunt for other women, unless I'm having a fight with my wife and haven't had sex for days. The other women I've tried with were mostly either bribes or offered themselves willingly. I doubt many men in the world would refuse such a good deal.

The only advantage of being with my wife is that if I can last 10 minutes in her vagina, I can last at least 20 minutes with other women. Although the length of time isn't a measure of a man's ability, it gives me something to brag about and feel vain about… Sometimes I even have this perverse thought: if my wife were a prostitute, her efficiency would be top-notch. Not many men can last that long in her vagina. With a little training, she could finish in two or three minutes. How could she not be efficient? And once you experience that, you'd be addicted like a drug addict, and there would be tons of repeat customers… It's just that after ejaculating inside my wife, going home to play with my own wife would be pointless, which could easily cause social problems… Haha, I'm dizzy, what kind of morbid thoughts are these?

If my wife has any flaws, it's really physical. Her buttocks are a little small, far from being overly plump, but thankfully they're very firm. If you try to penetrate her from behind with her buttocks sticking out, you can't really reach all the way in; those two buttocks are so firm they practically block you. Of course, she has to keep her legs together; any woman with her legs open has no reason not to be able to reach all the way in. But this shouldn't really be considered a flaw, right? The more you can't reach all the way in, the more you want to push in. For men, the thrill of not getting what they want is often stronger. My wife's weakness mainly stems from her personality: willful and stubborn. What I find most unbearable is her strong self-centeredness; she insists on having what she can't have. I guess all beautiful women are like that—it's a common trait. Another thing is that she's strong in words but weak in actions. If she suffers a little injustice, she'll argue relentlessly, determined to get her revenge, but in the end, she mostly chooses to endure it. She's a master of pretense, obsessed with saving face, and acts as ladylike as possible in public, afraid of what others might say about her—to a pathological degree… My wife has another regret about me: I gave her my virginity, but she didn't give me hers. Later, I learned from her that she was tricked into losing her virginity by an older man when she was 16. What a lucky old bastard! I've been working on my wife for so many years, and her vagina is still so tight. You can imagine how tight it must have been when she lost her virginity; that old bastard probably passed out from pleasure… Actually, from the first night she grabbed my penis, I knew my wife wasn't a virgin anymore. What virgin touches a man's thing on her first time? Heh. Later, I saw my wife's vulva. There was a faint grayish layer on her labia. At the time, I didn't know what it meant, but later I slowly realized how many times it must have taken for that grayish layer to accumulate… My wife's past private life was definitely not as simple as she claimed—things like being deflowered by an older man, only having one boyfriend, etc… I didn't expose her. I didn't have the opportunity to be involved in her past. The focus is on the future; this has always been my view. I don't care about virginity to the point of obsession like other men. Better to marry a prostitute than to marry a wife like a prostitute.

Besides, how many beautiful women of marriageable age are still virgins these days? There might be some unattractive women, but the possibility of a beautiful woman being a virgin is almost zero. There are too many temptations, too many men watching from the sidelines; it's incredibly difficult to maintain virginity… So, brothers who want to marry a beautiful woman should be prepared. In today's society, if you're even slightly attractive, premarital infidelity is basically inevitable. The key is whether you'll continue to wear it after marriage. Actually, in my mind, premarital infidelity shouldn't be considered true infidelity, haha.

After having physical intimacy with my wife, I was immediately immersed in the most wonderful desire in the world, and I plotted every day how to have an affair with her. In fact, up until this point, the wife I kept calling her was not really my wife. Because of the physical relationship, we had gone a step further than just boyfriend and girlfriend. I might as well call her my future wife. In my heart, I really wanted to hold her hand and grow old together.

But after a while, problems arose. First, being so engrossed in our lust, it was inconvenient for us to sneak around having sex. Her dorm had three girls, so there weren't many opportunities. My dorm was even less safe; I couldn't even find the key. The door could be locked, but to open it, you could just reach in through the small window and twist the knob—it was practically open 24/7. Nothing seemed to go missing. Of course, we were very poor back then, so we didn't have anything worth losing. Because we were poor, we couldn't go to hotels every day, so we'd usually meet during lunch break, plan ahead, rush back to her dorm, and quickly finish. Afraid of being laughed at, we had to sneak upstairs at different times… Second, although most people understood that our relationship was unusual, the number of men swarming around her didn't decrease; in fact, it seemed to increase. Damn, men's pursuit of women is relentless, especially when the woman is attractive. Among them were many men with better conditions than me—handsome, powerful, or wealthy… This put immense pressure on me. If I were to be cheated on or run off with someone else, it would be a disaster. Whether I admit it or not, I'm quite deeply in love with my fiancée.

I love the image of her sleeping soundly in my arms, naked, after we've had sex a few times. It seems only then do I truly possess her. But the price is staggering; I can't expect her to pay for every encounter… After a few times, I couldn't take it anymore. So, on a crazy night, I solemnly suggested we rent a place and just roll around together… My fiancée thought about it for two days. I don't know if she pitied my acne and needed her body to cool it down, or if she was attracted to my prowess and youth, but she actually agreed! Later, I always thought the first point was more reliable, while the latter two were really too far-fetched. Because years later, she kept cursing me for being blind to have fallen for me, calling me "N-times-ro" too. Her amazing vagina made me play the role of a quick shooter all the time, and before that, she had never experienced an orgasm. Of course, that's another story.

Speaking of climaxes, this is also a major regret of my fiancée. She's a slow burner. It's strange that while her other parts are incredibly sensitive, that crucial spot is always so insensitive, requiring a lot of patience. But once she finally climaxes, you feel gratified that all your previous efforts were worthwhile. Her climaxes are incredibly intense; the rhythmic contractions and relaxations transmit a strange, indescribable stimulation to your penis. Watching a woman go wild and lose herself beneath you already gives you a great sense of accomplishment, especially when her vagina tightly grips your penis, each contraction clearly declaring: you've brought her to the peak of desire… With her approval, I was overjoyed. Finally, I had my own artillery position! At the same time, this was undoubtedly a message to the flies: wake up, she's my personal cannon… How could I not be excited? No, I mean sexually aroused.

Speed is of the essence, and without giving my wife a chance to regret it, I took the afternoon off to look for a place together, and that very evening we moved into our little haven with a lot of fanfare. Calling it a move was a bit much; she had more stuff and had to make several trips back and forth, while I just rolled up my bedding, grabbed a bag, and got it all done in one go, without even breaking a sweat. And my fiancée didn't even like the bedding; she said it was too dirty, left it on the balcony for a few days, and then threw it away.

After moving in, we went out for a big drinking session, a kind of farewell ceremony for my single life. Afterwards, my brothers and sisters toured the new house, and I proudly pointed to the new bed and introduced it to the guests: "This is my cannon turret..." which earned me a chase and a playful beating from my fiancée.

New house, new environment, new world—of course, a passionate lovemaking session was inevitable—no, it should be several. My fiancée was also incredibly enthusiastic, cooperating flawlessly and exuding irresistible charm. After our frenzy, we lay exhausted in each other's arms, my fiancée nestled in my embrace, sighing with endless emotion: "Finally, we have a home..." Yes, a home is everything for most women in their lives. Although our place was pitifully cramped, at least we had a beginning.

After that, I was completely immersed in the carnal desire my wife brought me, unable to extricate myself. She always said I was a greedy guy, and I wholeheartedly agreed. When we first moved in together, we had sex at least twice a day. The first thing I did after work was to strip her naked, have sex, and only then would I think about dinner. Then, a final round before bed was inevitable, and the rest was whatever came to mind. On weekends, Saturdays were basically reserved for sex. We would both be completely naked, and no matter what we were doing, as long as one of us was aroused, we would immediately connect through some part of our bodies. This routine lasted for a long time.

I've always been surprised by my insatiable desire for her body, because I often read articles saying that the honeymoon ends after only a few days, while I maintain a persistent, unfulfilled passion. I even wondered if this was an innate trait, but later, after experiencing other women, I realized that my unfulfilled desire is solely for my wife, probably largely due to her exceptional sexual prowess. However, the side effects are quite obvious: firstly, it makes me less sexually interested in most other women; secondly, unrestrained sex will definitely shorten my lifespan by many years… But it doesn't matter. With such a gem, what more could a husband ask for? A shorter lifespan is fine, anyway, when you get old, you're useless except for eating, drinking, and relieving yourself. Seeing beautiful women and being unable to make a move only makes you feel frustrated, haha.

By chance, I discovered the key to unlocking my wife's sexual secrets. I imitated porn, lying between her legs and kissing her vulva. After only a few minutes, she couldn't take it anymore. She started writhing her hips, moaning and crying out, saying "No, no!" while holding my head and refusing to let me leave. Finally, she went crazy, pressing my head tightly between her legs, even using her thighs. I was stunned. My head, nose, and mouth were all pressed hard between her legs, making it hard to breathe. Luckily, I'm an expert at holding my breath, or I would have suffocated.

Then I heard her start panting heavily, accompanied by high-pitched "ah ah" sounds... If this were now, I would definitely know she was high, but back then my knowledge was so limited that I didn't know a woman's orgasm could be so intense that she was unconscious. I was amazed to see her panting and screaming, and thankfully, I wisely didn't move. Of course, I couldn't move anyway, as she was pressing me too tightly. I must have looked ridiculous: my whole head buried between her legs, staring wide-eyed at her frenzied state... Only after she stopped moving did I stupidly ask her what had just happened. My wife was still immersed in the wonderful feeling, shaking her head and not wanting to say anything. After a long while, she finally managed to squeeze out, "I had an orgasm..." Oh my god, so this is what an orgasm is! I used to think that when she held me tightly during sex, that meant she had an orgasm. Oh my god… My wife orgasmed, but I hadn't reached my climax yet. I got up and thrust in, but as soon as I touched her opening, she recoiled as if electrocuted. This happened several times. She weakly said, "Wait, wait…" I had to wait until she calmed down before I could penetrate her. She had an orgasm, so I had no more inhibitions. I continued thrusting until I was panting and collapsed weakly on top of her. During that time, my wife didn't even move, just closed her eyes and let me do whatever I wanted.

After we finished, I lay down next to her. She rolled over and wrapped herself tightly around me, kissing me wildly and incoherently saying that this was her first orgasm, and that sex was so wonderful… She even squeezed out a few tears as she said this.

I still foolishly said I didn't believe it, but my wife insisted it was true. She told me she never knew what an orgasm felt like; before, she only felt a slight itch and thought it meant an orgasm. She even thought sex was no fun at all, wondering why others were so attracted to it. Today, she realized how wonderful it felt… Of course, it's no fun when it's unbearably itchy; reaching the peak of itchiness and then no longer feeling itchy is the true state of being.

I couldn't understand it at first, but after thinking about it, I understood. With my wife's tight vagina, few men could last long inside her. In fact, it's very likely that a man would ejaculate just as she started to feel the itch, leaving him with nothing to show for it, which is why he thought sex was no fun… Besides, she's slow to arouse. Later, I learned that it's almost impossible to bring her to orgasm through just thrusting; other methods are needed.

Actually, having such a wonderful vagina is a kind of tragedy. This thing can bring men endless enjoyment, but often brings no sexual happiness to oneself. It's only for others to enjoy, which is a great tragedy, and my wife is no exception.

So from then on, I stopped just thinking about my own enjoyment. Whenever she wanted it, I would bring her to her peak first, by any means necessary, and only then would I get my pleasure. My wife always thought she was lucky to have chosen me, and that's probably one of the reasons.

After living together for six months, we went to get a license—a license for legal sex; before, it was all illegal.

Two homeless people, the wedding was quite simple, just a meal with our respective friends. My wife has always held a grudge about it, saying that I tricked a virgin into sleeping with me for a long time. I said, "Damn it, you're a virgin who's already been picked by someone else..." which earned me a beating from her.

Overall, my wife and I are a good-looking couple, and we love each other. My acne disappeared completely after being bathed in her body, I have to admire the magic of that part of a woman. So, in other people's eyes, we are a very well-matched couple, and some girls even exclaimed that they regretted it—if they had known I was somewhat handsome, they would have made a move earlier... To be honest, the wedding was indeed unfair to my wife. A woman's most important event ended so hastily, and sometimes I feel very sorry for her, even though it was just a formality.

When our parents heard that we were married, they were overjoyed and strongly encouraged us to go home to hold the wedding. I understand my parents' feelings, of course. The joy of the occasion is one thing, but another reason is the custom in our hometown: gifts are given for every celebration, funeral, or wedding. These gifts are recorded in a notebook and returned the same way when someone else hosts a banquet. In the foreseeable future, there won't be any major events in my family, except for my marriage. My parents must have accumulated a huge pile of wedding gifts that they can't recoup.

I really want to fulfill my parents' wishes, but the increasingly vulgar wedding customs in my hometown make me hesitate. Although I haven't lived in my hometown for many years since starting school, I've learned a lot from friends and classmates, especially about the wedding night pranks, which have become almost unrestrained. I heard that recently, after the wedding night pranks, the bride who had married out of town ran back to her parents' home the next day and refused to return. And two years ago, a bride was even raped… Of course, these are just rumors, and I'm skeptical. Damn, raping a bride? That's far beyond my comprehension. I thought it couldn't possibly have gone that far. It's definitely vulgar. I attended a few weddings when I was young, but I was only interested in the spectacle and didn't understand the meaning at all. Besides, my memories of them are hazy now. I try hard to recall what the scenes would be like, but I can't remember at all.

My hometown is a small mountain village with little entertainment. When this vulgar trend is mentioned, everyone is indignant, but when it actually happens, they become addicted and flock to it, all thinking about how to take advantage of other people's wives, let alone other people's brides... The idea that "the new bride has no respect for

elders for three days" is deeply ingrained, and who would want to miss such an opportunity? Men are all like that, sometimes quite perverted, especially those who have been married before. They were wronged in the past and always try to get revenge. So I've always been hesitant to tell my parents what they think. I don't want my wife to be touched by other men, especially a beautiful wife that any man would be attracted to. In addition, my wife is not shrewd and doesn't know how to refuse. If the situation gets out of control, it will be troublesome.

So, after dragging it out for a while, I went home for the Chinese New Year, naturally bringing my wife along. During the visits to relatives and friends, they kept asking when I was coming back to "get things done." Luckily, due to the language barrier, my wife initially didn't understand what "getting things done" meant. But when she realized I meant the wedding, she nodded like a leaf, her face beaming, repeatedly saying, "Soon, very soon..." I sighed inwardly. You can't escape it forever; perhaps it really was fate.

Back in Shenzhen, my wife kept complaining that I hadn't discussed this with her, that I wasn't proactive at all, that I was stingy, and that I was afraid to spend money. I offered a half-hearted explanation, saying it was because the local wedding customs were too vulgar that we weren't considering it. My wife scoffed: "How vulgar can it be? You've been sleeping with me for half a year, do you think I'm afraid of vulgarity?!" I then told her that even the bride had been raped. My wife looked unconvinced, saying I was just making up stories to scare her. Then she pleaded with me, saying she really wanted to wear a wedding dress, really wanted to marry me looking beautiful… Seeing her pitiful expression, I had no reason to refuse. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event for a woman; who wouldn't want to get married in style?

Actually, I had thought about it too. Although I was no longer familiar with the customs of my hometown, I figured at most it would just be a little exposure, a little touching—what difference would a glance or a touch make? How vulgar could it be?!

Seeing my agreement, my wife danced with joy, as happy as a child. I closed my eyes: Fine, finding a wife is about making yourself happy and making her happy too, right? Since she's so happy, I'll go for it!

My wife is slow and procrastinating on everything else, but when it comes to buying clothes, she's incredibly fast. We agreed on something the night before, and the next day she went out with her girlfriends to pick out a wedding dress. I didn't interfere; I let her do what she wanted, as long as she was happy… But I miscalculated. Looking at the wedding dresses and evening gowns she brought back, I was both amused and exasperated. The wedding dresses were fine—just a bunch of puffy, slightly low-cut ones. But the evening gowns were a disaster! One was a cheongsam, one a short skirt, and even one evening gown! The clothes themselves weren't so bad, but the problem was that every single one accentuated her figure. Even the cheongsam was short, and the skirt reached her thighs. Thighs wouldn't be so bad, but the hem was stiff, flaring out in a circle… This… this should be considered a bridesmaid dress, I don't know what she bought it for.

Especially that evening gown—the bottom was alright, reaching her calves, but the top had a huge slit, exposing most of her breasts… Good heavens, how could she dare wear that out in a thirsty little mountain village?!

My wife was enthusiastically trying on outfits for me, lecturing me: the wedding dress is for the wedding ceremony, the cheongsam is for the toasts, the short skirt is for casual wear, the evening gown is for the evening… I didn't offer any opinions, not wanting to dampen her spirits. While she was trying on the evening gown, she looked in the mirror, turned to me, and said, "This gown doesn't look good with a bra on." Then she ripped off her bra. My wife did look beautiful in it, or rather, seductive, but I was bewildered. Evening, evening gown, wedding night pranks… and no bra? Ugh, if someone squeezes her, those big breasts will just pop out… My wife twirled around admiring herself for a while, then smiled and asked if it looked good. My answer was to pounce on her, throw her on the bed, lift her skirt, pull out my penis, pull down her thong, and with a swift movement, thrust inside. The whole action was incredibly smooth and seamless. Thongs are so convenient; you don't even need to take them off. Sometimes I wonder, are so-called sexy clothes designed specifically for easy sex?

My wife laughed and called me a pervert, saying not to get the dress dirty. So I pulled, and the entire dress ended up around her waist. Damn, this dress is so convenient! One pull and she's practically naked. Wearing this to the wedding night is bound to cause trouble! Once a man's lust is aroused, it's hard to be rational. If he can find a vagina, he'll definitely take care of it there; if he can't, he'll use his hand… Afterwards, I said, "I have no problem with the wedding dress, but the other dresses aren't suitable. You can keep them at home for me to see…" My wife objected, saying that other bridesmaids change into so many different outfits for their weddings… Ugh, how can our little mountain village compare to the city? In the end, we compromised. We wouldn't bring the evening gown; we'd change into jeans immediately after the wedding to handle the wedding night pranks. My biggest worry was that the evening gown would be too outrageous for the wedding night pranks. This outcome is actually not bad. Actually, the vulgarity only applies to the wedding night pranks; there's nothing particularly noteworthy at other times, since the elders are there, so it won't be too outrageous.

After finalizing the outfits, it was time to set a date with my parents. They said it was up to us; everything had been prepared, it was just a pig slaughtering, we could go back today. Then I contacted my wife's family, and they also said it was up to them, but only one of them could come—firstly, it was too far, and secondly, they couldn't get away from home. My wife's younger sister was very enthusiastic and insisted on coming to be her sister's bridesmaid. I made an excuse, saying she needed to focus on her studies, and declined. Damn it, I'd already struggled to protect one, let alone another—it would be chaos! But this also reminded me that I absolutely couldn't schedule it during summer vacation; if my wife's younger sister really came, it would be disastrous.

So, in late spring, I escorted my wife back to our lovely hometown. I used to be excited every time I went home, but this time I felt a strange sense of dread… My wife, however, was very excited, her face beaming with joy.

After a long journey home, only my mother-in-law came. Thankfully, my wife's younger sister didn't come. Mother and daughter met, and naturally, they exchanged many sweet nothings; my wife even peed a few times on the spot.

The wedding was on the third day. It was more of a wedding ceremony than a proper wedding; it was mostly just a procession of the bride and groom, followed by eating and drinking. The bride's family was arranged to stay at her aunt's house. That night, my wife insisted on sleeping with me. According to custom, we shouldn't see each other for two or three days before the wedding, but since we were considered outsiders, we didn't adhere to those rules. I slept with the bride on the first night, and of course, I had to have my way with her, going at it three times before stopping. During this time, my wife couldn't help but moan loudly, which startled me so much that I quickly covered her mouth. Ugh, my aunt's tile-roofed house is nothing like a modern apartment building; it's drafty everywhere, and incredibly quiet at night. With my wife's high-pitched voice, one shout would have alerted the whole village. I yelled... The second night, my wife still wanted me to sleep with her, but that was definitely out of the question this night. There was no reason to sleep with the bride today when the wedding was tomorrow. But after taking her back to her aunt's house, I couldn't resist my desire and pinned her down on the bed to relieve myself. My wife cooperated while giggling and whispering in my ear: "Help! Someone's here! Someone's raping the bride!"... This made me even more lustful. At the end, I told my wife to squeeze tighter, and she obeyed. As soon as she squeezed, I ejaculated a lot... After we finished, I teased her: "The bride is being raped and you're still cooperating like this. You're really something else... Tomorrow is the wedding, and you're still releasing your energy inside the bride's body today. I should be considered a top-notch groom, haha."

The wedding my wife had been eagerly anticipating finally arrived. The procession, with its music and fanfare, stretched what should have been a 500-meter walk into a huge loop around the village. My legs were aching, but my wife seemed perfectly fine; on the contrary, she was in high spirits. While other brides were shy and demure, she was wide-eyed, giggling and looking around, finding everything fascinating. Walking that far in high heels was truly impressive; a woman's stamina is unmatched by men.

The journey was safe, but the crucial moment was entering the gate. There were grooms trying to abduct the bride at the entrance; once inside, she was officially married. I carried my wife on my back, took a deep breath, and jogged along. She giggled incessantly on my back, even trying to tickle me—wow! She seemed genuinely happy. The process was surprisingly smooth. The people around us didn't give us any trouble, only groping my wife a few times. With other people, things wouldn't have been so lucky; they might have ripped the bride off! It seems the old man was right; he had given us advance notice, and since most of the guests at noon were close relatives and friends, there was no need to make things difficult for us.

We entered the house smoothly, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps my worries were unnecessary, but I also knew the real test would be the wedding night festivities. Those guys from the village wouldn't be easy to deal with, not even the relatives and friends; there were even people from other villages who came specifically to grope us.

After paying respects to the parents and mother-in-law, the wedding ceremony was pretty much over. My wife went inside and changed into a cheongsam. She had a stunning figure, with a prominent bust and buttocks. The cheongsam wasn't completely concealing; there was a gap from her neck to her chest, revealing her cleavage. Damn, I miscalculated. When my wife tried it on before, she wasn't wearing a bra, so the cleavage wasn't so obvious. This time, with a bra, it was all over. I was stunned.

Although the wedding dress was low-cut, it was still quite modest. The cheongsam really accentuated her figure, and now not only the men but even the women were staring in disbelief. My wife seemed to enjoy the intense gaze, remaining remarkably calm. No wonder; she'd probably grown up under that kind of scrutiny and was used to it.

Toasting was easy for her—just a sip. But for me, it was a different story. In the city, a best man could at least hold my own, but we never had that. It was a real test, and they'd even check if my drink was watered down… Almost all our relatives and friends said that since we weren't being difficult after our wedding, we couldn't be careless with our drinks. So, I had no choice but to grit my teeth and keep pouring. Luckily, I'd consulted an expert before going home: after a few drinks, I'd immediately run to the toilet and force myself to vomit. With my aunt subtly switching my drinks, I managed to finish without collapsing, though a drowsy state was inevitable.

My wife also helped me finish quite a bit. As soon as we finished toasting, she collapsed onto the bed, complaining of a headache and dizziness. I told her not to drink if she couldn't handle it, and she said, with a hurt expression, that she couldn't bear to see me being forced to drink so much… I was deeply moved.

I ate something haphazardly and then lay down on the bed with my wife to rest, waiting for night to come—that would be the real test. My mother had prepared a lot of hangover remedies, but they didn't seem to have any effect.

The evening was a mixed bag; there was no need for toasts. We were seated at a table with my childhood friends. These ravenous bastards wouldn't let me go, drinking one cup after another until I was completely drunk and vomited.

I lay there being cared for for who knows how long before I finally woke up. Looking around, I realized my wife was gone. A jolt of realization washed over me, and I felt much more awake, though my head was still spinning and my limbs felt weak. I quickly washed my face with cold water and rushed to the bridal chamber. My mother, behind me, said with concern, "Rest a little longer before you go..." But how could I rest? My wife had already been taken to the bridal chamber; how could I protect her if I didn't go?!

The bridal chamber was already packed with people. At the announcement of the groom's arrival, everyone immediately made way for me. I went in and secretly groaned. My wife was wearing a short dress; she hadn't changed into jeans as planned. Later, I asked why she hadn't changed, and she said, aggrieved, that she didn't have time—she'd just finished eating and was brought in… The elders were all there, so the scene wasn't chaotic. My wife sat on the edge of the bed, and everyone was urging the old man to kowtow to his wife—it's a long-standing custom, an unavoidable part. I don't know what the previous activities were, but they shouldn't have been excessive; at least my wife was smiling the whole time. But after that, with the elders gone, it was basically free rein—that was the real test.

The first few were easy to handle—eating candy and apples, hanging us with string and having to bite them. Kissing was inevitable; that's the effect they wanted. Kissing wasn't difficult for my wife and me; we'd done it countless times. As long as the bride wasn't overly shy, these activities were fine. My wife and I had been sleeping together for almost a year; this was no problem at all.

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Many years of acid

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