Those fleeting years (1-10)

Word Count: 5330 Chapter One: I'm Willing "If I could, I'd want to go back to 1999. I was sixteen then..." Lincoln and Bing sat in Bing's car, the atmosphere thick with memories. Lincoln said to Bing, "If I could, I'd want to go back to 1999. I was sixteen then, and I thought that as long as I worked hard, the world would be mine. Ah..." Lincoln's sigh contained a lot of meaning that Bing couldn't fully understand; perhaps only he himself knew the youthful arrogance of that time. "I really liked your handwriting and the way you wrote so earnestly. You were so outstanding back then, and I was so ordinary..." Bing's head was slightly lowered until she heard Lincoln's giggling laughter. She looked up, her curly hair swaying gently. She saw him looking into her eyes. Silence reigned, only the trembling of his breath passing over her nostrils. Those ten seconds of silence felt like twenty years. She waited for those trembling lips to offer warmth. "Life is like this, beyond our control. We only live once, why suppress our desires and become puppets of morality? I don't know if I'll regret it, but this goes against my previous values." He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head and said, "Heh, humans are truly contradictory creatures. I'm leaving." Lin opened the car door, about to leave, leaving behind a sense of helpless regret. He wanted her to stop him, yet he was afraid. Bing instinctively grabbed Lin's left hand, uttering the words, "Don't go." Lin didn't remember how much force Bing had used to pull him back, only the frantic heartbeat and the passionate kiss. He touched Bing's private parts, biting her lips. Slowly melting her. Finally, as she moaned passionately, Lin stopped. Bing was so excited she wanted to cry out, in that instant. Bing opened her eyes, looking at Lin with an unexplained expression. Lin's right hand firmly and decisively gripped her neck, controlling her breathing. Gradually, she felt her eyes begin to bloodshot, tears welling up, but she didn't resist, only looking at the person in front of her with a blank expression, her hands resting uneasily on the large hand gripping her neck. A pair of long legs, clad in boots and tight, high-elastic black pants, trembled with excitement. Her desire to submit awaited its baptism; she believed in Lin based on twenty years of understanding, their story too many to count. He loosened his grip, breathed a sigh of relief, then tightened it again. Lin looked at Bing like this, and Bing looked back at him, filled with pleading. "Be my slave," Bing finally received the command she longed for. The grip on Bing loosened, and Lin awaited her answer. Due to lack of oxygen and the control over her breathing, tears welled in Bing's eyes, mingling with a burning desire, just like the hot current flowing from her lower body. With a nod and a soft "Mmm," she surrendered herself to Lin. She completely trusted him, enjoying the pleasure of being controlled. This pleasure stemmed from the uncontrollable fear of the unknown and the thrill of shame. At the same time, she knew he was the ferryman who would take her to the other side of pleasure. This time, she chose to be a believer in happiness. Bing leaned against Lin, watching the sunset slip through the trees, emptying her mind, closing her eyes in bliss. Long after Lin left, Bing drove home. They were both lovers, yet both so lonely. Chapter Two: Bingling Qiuyan. Bing's online name was Bingling Qiuyan. She was a stubborn and strong-willed woman who loved to swim like a wild goose across the autumn sunset, proudly surveying the earth, yet possessing the purity and cleverness of ice and snow. They met when they were only thirteen, the same age Lin Daiyu entered the Grand View Garden. Girls develop early, and that year she wore her hair in a high braid, thick and black. She sat behind Lin, who was a good student at the time, while she seemed slow-witted and hadn't quite grasped things yet. Children often have conflicts, and one day after school, she told Lin she was going to find someone to beat him up. Lin was terrified but pretended not to care. Afterwards, Lin would help her sometimes, but most of the time Bing was on dates with her boyfriend. Girls mature early; at thirteen, Lin wasn't even as tall as her. She only occasionally paid attention to him, especially the way he wrote—his serious expression and powerful, flowing handwriting. In 1998, Lin went to a prestigious high school, while she stayed at her old high school. After a class reunion, they learned each other's contact information and began writing letters. There were no telephones back then. Lin enjoyed having such an admirer. Although he never thought about the future, he assumed she had too many boyfriends for him to have a chance, or that a better, more devoted woman would be waiting for him. He kept moving forward. Sometimes they would spend time together, helping each other with homework and studies. She felt his body had grown stronger and more robust; each embrace was a source of strength she could rely on, a strength that was warm and comforting to her. She never told Lin any of this, just as he did. Lin later told her that holding her back then felt like a soft, blissful experience. But it was an innocent age. They didn't become anyone's anything. They each had their own lovers or crushes. The music of that time was "You Are the Most Beautiful in My Heart"... the voice of Yu Quan. Like the brilliant transition from spring to summer. In high school, Bing was sexually assaulted by a tutor during a private session. Although she somewhat liked the tutor, her first time was still excruciatingly painful. Lin never knew any of this. At the beginning of the century, Lin was admitted to Xinjiang University, the only place where he could obtain a first-tier university degree with his score. Bing attended a local vocational college. She was hardworking and never lacked boyfriends. Her bright, alluring eyes and full lips always attracted attention. One summer, Lin contacted her. At that time, Lin was very lonely. Going to university in another city had caused him to lose some important people. Bing stayed with him one night, and he fell asleep like a child, kissing her nipples, nestled in her arms. Bing really liked this boy. But she also had so much in her past. "Change your perspective," she often consoled herself, "this experience isn't so bad." Once, Bing went to the train station to see Lin off, wearing a white floral dress, looking extremely ladylike. That image of hers was deeply etched in their youthful memories, impossible to erase, and every time they thought of it, a smile would appear on their lips. Yes, youth is wonderful. For a long time after the train departed, Lin felt as if all the beauty had been taken away, and he was very sad. After that, they rarely contacted each other. By then, they had each other's QQ contact information, and when bored, they would tease each other to release their abundant but useless bodily fluids. Until Lin also had a girlfriend and could have a purely platonic relationship, they rarely contacted each other. "How did you two make love?" she asked Lin much later, after giving him oral sex. "Back then, I was young and had a lot of stamina. I could do it four or five times a night, and I didn't have any special skills," Lin said thoughtfully, stroking her hair. His fluids were licked clean in Bing's mouth, and she gave him a wicked smile. Bing liked to suck on Lin's testicles and stroke his anus, occasionally slowly sucking and kissing his inner thighs. Lin always made satisfied "mmm" sounds from her service. Chapter Three: Her husband Bing's marriage was also quite bumpy. With a college diploma in the capital and a rural background, even though she had some looks, she was burdened by a reputation for promiscuity. She was almost thirty when she married a fat man from a nearby town through an introduction. The two of them standing together had a comical feel, like an elephant and a giraffe. This fat man was named Fu Wei, and it seems that the proportion of fat men named Wei is quite high. He appears honest but is actually quite cunning and foolish, lacking any independent thought and mostly following his mother's advice. Even though her in-laws live in a small town, they still look down on Bing, which infuriates her. The relationship between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law is very bad, especially since she hasn't conceived in years. Her mother-in-law never gives her a kind look. That evening, after showering, Fu Wei looked at Bing's fair skin in her red pajamas, and his erection involuntarily rose. He stroked it a few times to show his wife, "Honey, look, it can't take it anymore! Come on, let's do some exercise." "Don't mess around, I'm checking my stocks! ~ Hey, wait a minute, don't touch me, I'll do it myself!"
After a passionate lovemaking session, Bing's face was just beginning to flush. She felt her overweight husband shudder, "Oh...oh...oh..." His rapidly swelling penis inside her quickly gave way, and at this moment, Bing would frantically sway her hips, seeking those last few seconds of stimulation. Until Fu Wei held her tightly, she knew he wouldn't be able to perform tonight. Bing rarely achieved orgasm; compared to her previous boyfriends, Fu Wei was indeed inferior—fat and small. His weight would kill any sensation. She preferred self-pleasure. Whether after Fu Wei fell asleep or in the bathroom, Bing would always find a suitable opportunity to soothe herself with her nimble, delicate fingers. Bing had a lot of pubic hair, which had once troubled her. However, since university, she had developed the habit of trimming her pubic hair. Now, she was quite satisfied with both its shape and thickness. She liked to trim her breasts while bathing, then caress them with her fingers, focusing on the flat areas along her breasts. She knew that rushing into things would only yield meager pleasure; happiness needed to accumulate gradually before reaching its peak. Her left index and middle fingers rubbed back and forth on both sides, while her right hand imagined a pure black ideal lover caressing her, tracing her forehead and cheeks, kneading her neck, rubbing her shoulders, brushing her breasts, teasing her armpits, stroking her breasts, massaging the base of her nipples, her areolas, and her cleavage. Her long-nailed middle finger caressed the deep grooves of her beautiful back, the curves of her body radiating pleasure. Finally, her fingers pressed together around her breasts, and she unconsciously let out a passionate moan.
She closed her eyes, imagining that resolute black hand climbing onto her not-so-large but still firm breasts, the small, dark nipples standing erect like little chimneys. That hand's index finger and thumb pinched her left nipple, beginning to mercilessly ravage it, whenever this happened… Her left hand, which had been masturbating, began to work faster, tending to her lower body. One finger was inserted, then three, the thumb rubbing her clitoris, the little finger occasionally caressing her perineum. The remaining three fingers were all enveloped in her warm embrace. In the heat of the moment, she would switch hands, preparing for the coming storm. With each thrust, a tumultuous rhythm, Bing finally climaxed. She bit her left hand, which was covered in her own fluids, emitting soft moans of pleasure, while her right hand soothed her contracting, trembling vulva. Fu Wei rarely understood these things about women; he was like a child who never grew up. Never leaving his mother's care, a selfish, fat bastard—that was Bing's later summary of Fu Wei. Bing worked in finance at a research institute, while Fu Wei worked in sales at a state-owned enterprise. Fu Wei had little pressure; the state-owned enterprise was on its last legs, waiting to be bought out or restructured. Most of the time, Fu Wei listened to Bing, but when his mother's opinions were in play, he completely sided with her and obeyed unconditionally. When Bing kissed him, she always felt like she was breastfeeding a child. They rented a place near Fu Wei's house, a place his mother had found for them. It was also within his mother's sphere of influence. They lived together like this for three years, and Bing, increasingly comfortable within her mother-in-law's sphere of influence, grew more and more at ease.
Chapter Four: The First Time. Bing Yan's real name was Ling, a very simple 0. In her room, she played with the identity ring Lin had given her. It was a pure black ring, with the white "m5" marking it most prominently, the "5" written in smaller characters as a subscript. On the left and right sides were some strange characters, like Arabic script, very short, a golden color, the characters embedded, the surface very smooth. She held it in her hand, slipped it on her index finger, and moved her fingers left and right, finding it quite beautiful. She smiled mysteriously at herself in the mirror. Lin had asked her to wear this ring on her right hand when she was ready to see him. At that time, he would tell her some rules regarding their relationship. In early February of this year, when the capital was at its coldest, Bing received an invitation from Lin. It was a mysterious email on pure black paper, with mysterious Arabic script. The brief command: "S0: Saturday, July 26th, 1 PM, Rafael Castle Hotel. Building A, Room 318. Wear a long dress and high heels. Remember to bring your ring. S Lin." Bing read the email and found it had disappeared automatically. She even thought she was hallucinating. But she immediately realized it was real. But soon she began to feel disappointed because it was only March, and there were still five months to go. This made her very anxious, but it didn't stop her from adding the appointment to her phone calendar.
Many times Bing wanted to contact Lincoln, but found that no one answered whether she texted or called. She couldn't find any other way to contact him through friends either. Ever since he returned from Xinjiang, he had been shrouded in mystery, and she felt that way too.
Waiting was wonderful, but also cruel. At first, Bing began to recall all the things they had done together, from childhood sweethearts to first love, and then to being separated and starting their own families. In the days that followed, she began to recall that dramatic meeting. She had personally agreed to be Lin's slave, heeding the call of desire. The image replayed repeatedly in her mind, and each time her lower body was soaking wet. When no one was around, she would imagine Lin's strong fingers pressing against her neck, the sexual pleasure from suffocation causing her fingers to involuntarily slide towards her vulva, the boundary between her panties and skin, constantly "thrusting" towards the peak of desire.
The rest of the time, she began to pay attention to her figure, clothes, makeup, underwear, and even the hair and color of her genitals, scrutinizing them meticulously over and over again. Only when she stood in front of the mirror, hands on her hips, gently swaying her buttocks, seeing her flawless white body, firm breasts, clean genitals, and pretty face, did a satisfied smile appear on her face. Yes, like a girl in her first love, she wanted to show her best side to the one she truly loved. With a month left, she began to fantasize about their first time, wondering how Lin would treat her. He'd probably do some lewd things, like binding her and whipping her genitals, or blindfolding her and piercing her senses with ice or sharp metal, or forcing her to go out and expose herself to humiliation, or even arranging for others to gang rape her. All these fantasies stirred her emotions every night, even during her routine moments with Fu Wei. Imagination was the best aphrodisiac; the ice on Fu Wei was like a rider, whipping his horse. With her eyes closed, she felt as if her hands, kneading her breasts, belonged to Lin; he was decisive, resolute, controlling her completely. She was Lin's little rabbit, his beautiful slave; she would do everything Lin demanded, she knew she would.
The day finally arrived. It was Saturday, a rainy day. She told her husband she was going to visit clients from out of town, and drove her red Jiangnan Heyue to the Raffi Castle Hotel. It was a high-class hotel on the banks of the Wenyu River. Bing gazed at the semi-circle of white Roman columns surrounding the central green lawn, at the majestic, towering European-style castle-like building. Bing was filled with suspicion. She knew Lin's family background, and his current software job couldn't possibly support the expenses here. She felt like she was in a dream, her feet treading on cotton. Pushing open the wooden door, over three meters high and twenty centimeters high, with a creaking sound of wood rubbing against each other, a female lobby attendant bowed respectfully to welcome her. Her pure black Puma high-heeled sandals clicked on the soft carpet as she led her to room 318. She reached out to knock, only to find the door open. Hesitating for a second, she still curiously stepped inside. The lights were off, and the curtains were drawn. Just as she was about to look for the power switch, the door was quickly locked behind her. Before she could even turn around, a strong arm pulled her tightly into a hug. "Ah!"
she screamed in fright, then the man shushed her in the ear. She knew it was Lin; her heart was pounding. Lin was naked, his strong body and iron-like arms encircling her, his lower body like a baseball bat pressing against her buttocks and back. There were no words, no perverse discipline. Lin stripped her clothes off, enjoying her body like a true lover, kissing every sensitive spot, and inserting his hard, thick penis when she needed it most. It was so big! Bing almost cried out, feeling some protrusions stimulating her vaginal walls with each of Lin's conquests. Bing reached an unprecedented climax, her nails digging into Lin's back skin. Before Bing's trembling body had calmed down, Lin continued his journey. In the dark room, her strong lover made her forget time and space, letting Lin take whatever he wanted. Finally, Bing, exhausted, begged Lin to ejaculate. He ejaculated on her flat stomach. She fell asleep before she could even wash up. [Last edited by Feng Xiyue] Recent rating record for this post:
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Those fleeting years (1-10)

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