sullen woman

I am a well-educated, 38-year-old married woman with a respectable job. My husband is handsome and charming, and my son is academically excellent and obedient. To outsiders, I seem to have a happy and fulfilling family, but in reality, I am a pitiful woman living a life of virtual widowhood. Six years ago, my husband suffered severe damage to his genitals in an accident, leaving only half of them deformed. On the surface, he still appears normal, but in reality, he is unable to have sex, essentially a eunuch. My husband and I have a good relationship, and he knows I have physical needs. He worries that I might succumb to loneliness and have an affair, so he often tries to please me with words and has purchased sex toys for me to use. But these only arouse my strong desires and do not truly solve the problem. Besides, how can I use sex toys to masturbate in front of him, disregarding his self-esteem?

I am tall and thin; before marriage, I looked like a bamboo pole, far from sexy. But after marriage and childbirth, my weight has increased year by year, and my figure has become more curvaceous and full-figured. My breasts and hips had noticeably increased in size, and my legs had become more fleshy and smooth. From the lecherous glances of the men around me, I knew clearly that I had become a mature and sexy woman. Apart from my husband, I had never had any other relationships. Although many male colleagues at work coveted me, because of my supervisory position and my dignified and cautious demeanor, they had no opportunity to take advantage of me. But while it's easy to dodge a spear in the open, it's hard to guard against an arrow in the dark. I still lost my precious virginity; and that man was none other than my direct superior—the 58-year-old factory director.

The factory director was advanced in years and possessed the demeanor of an elder, usually gentle and refined, seemingly dignified. I had absolutely no suspicion of him. That day, I attended a social event with him. During the meal, he chatted and laughed, frequently urging me to drink. As his subordinate, I couldn't refuse too much. As a result, I became completely drunk, losing consciousness. When I woke up, I found myself lying naked in the factory director's arms. He kissed me greedily and caressed my body tenderly. I tried to struggle, but it was futile. He kissed my neck and sucked on my nipples, waves of pleasure washing over me, leaving me weak and unable to resist. He rubbed his erect penis between my legs, and I felt a mixture of love and fear. My genitals grew increasingly wet, my desire intensifying, and I began to long for his penetration.

The factory manager was truly experienced; he hesitated to enter me, only teasing and stimulating my sensitive areas, making me unbearably itchy. The despicable man even pretended to be a gentleman, hypocritically saying, "If you don't want to, I can stop anytime." My God! I was naked, held in his arms, he kissed my breasts, rubbing his penis against my genitals, my entire body ablaze with desire—how could I bear to let him stop? But he pervertedly insisted I beg him before he would actually enter. I was frantic, almost crying with anxiety, but he continued to lightly scratch my anus and rub my labia, insisting I wanted him to penetrate me. Unable to bear it any longer, I sobbed and begged him to come in quickly and fuck me hard. He said smugly, "You begged me, I didn't rape you!" After he finished speaking, he thrust in hard, penetrating me deeply. I gasped for breath in pleasure, unable to utter a word.

As he began to thrust, I shamefully raised my buttocks, frantically arching them upwards to meet him. Having not had sex for six years, I was as thirsty as a shameless slut; my mature vagina was ecstatically stretched open by him, and my tender buttocks swayed wantonly for him. Long deprived, I couldn't withstand too much stimulation. He only thrust in and out a few times before I reached a pleasurable climax. He skillfully kissed my earlobe, stroked my hair, and said comforting and praising words. I felt ashamed and angry, but I had to admit that he really made me feel good. He continued to thrust, and I trembled all over, lost in passion, reaching climax twice more in succession amidst moans. I felt completely conquered by him, both in mind and body. His flirting skills were superb, and his penis was thick and large. I experienced sexual pleasure again and felt like a woman once more.

Afterwards, I felt guilty, feeling sorry for my husband and son, and resolved never to do it again. But his skillful techniques, his large and strong penis, coupled with the factory manager's authority, repeatedly drew me into the vortex of lust. I knew it had nothing to do with love, just simple physical release, but I still felt a deep sense of guilt. I wanted to end this relationship immediately, but my body and mind were in great conflict. My mind knew it was wrong, but my body couldn't bear to give up that intoxicating feeling. Now he often uses work as an excuse to call me into his office and molest me. Because it's during working hours, I'm afraid of being discovered, but he, as the factory manager, doesn't care at all, and even asks me to wear a skirt without underwear for convenience.

Having tasted the sweetness of love, he developed a morbid craving for my body. He liked to have me stand in front of his desk while he hid under the desk, caressing my thighs and kissing my genitals; sometimes he would also have me hide under the desk and perform acts on him. When my desire reached its peak and I couldn't bear it any longer, he would have me lie face down on the desk with my buttocks raised, then he would unzip his zipper, lift my skirt, and have intercourse with me from behind. Because I was afraid of being discovered by my colleagues, I was extremely nervous, and in this situation, my body reacted exceptionally sensitively, and my orgasms were particularly intense. I often couldn't help but cry out, and my overflowing vaginal fluids flowed down my thighs to my knees. Currently, my colleagues are gossiping about me, but I am torn between wanting to stop and not being able to. What should I do?

[End]

Bytes: 3506 [This post was edited by zhouj614 on 2016-02-05 16:45]

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