Passion

Passionate Love

Author: Unknown Word Count: 3300 words

Ji Xianyu hadn't slept soundly for over a week. When her husband was home, she would find every excuse to wander outside. When he wasn't home, she would often sit by the French windows, her eyes glazed, her arms tightly wrapped around her knees, her chin resting on them, curled up like a stone statue, motionless.

A little over a week ago, she had stormed out of the house after a few words with her husband. As she slammed the door shut in anger, she thought she would never return.

The night outside was cold. She left in a hurry, without even putting on her down jacket. The chilly wind kept blowing into her neck. But the fire burning in her chest didn't make her feel the cold at all.

They had been married for seven years, seemingly to fulfill the saying: the seven-year itch. In the seventh year of their marriage, they began to argue constantly. The seventh year of their marriage seemed destined to never pass peacefully. Unlike many couples who experience the seven-year itch, her husband didn't have an affair. He was a dutiful and honest man. In their seven years of marriage, except for work, he had never left her for more than an hour. For those seven years, they were intertwined like vines, inseparable even when suffocatingly bound. But after seven years, their initial sweetness and affection had gradually been replaced by the trivialities and annoyances of daily life. Seven years had increasingly highlighted their incompatible personalities; day after day, language had become the most superfluous element between them. It was better not to communicate; once they did, it turned into endless complaints and attacks.

She was a romantic woman, with a restless soul within the constraints of tradition. A burning passion emanated from the depths of her heart. Romance made her more lonely, more sensitive, and more yearning for perfection than other women. She couldn't bear the monotony of life, nor could she tolerate her husband's increasing vulgarity. She longed for a love that resonated deep within her soul, hoping for a man who would cherish her and treasure her.

Half an hour later, her burning anger subsided, leaving only profound hurt and loneliness. In this vast city, though she had lived there for ten years, though she had become its inhabitant, she still felt as lonely as a tourist. Here, there were no friends, no refuge where she could rest when she was hurt. Standing at one end of the road, watching the bustling traffic, she seemed to hear death's alluring call, and involuntarily stretched out her leg, wanting to step into the rushing sea of cars. Suddenly, the image of her son's thin, frail figure and her mother's sorrowful, silver-haired face flashed into her mind. She withdrew her foot, shook her head fiercely, and turned to walk towards a small bridge. Under the bridge was a large, dark thicket. She used to sit there when she was injured.

A few scattered, cold stars dotted the cold night sky. She looked up and sighed softly. Marriage was a burden she couldn't let go of. Although carrying this burden for years had become incredibly tiring, she still couldn't bear to part with it. No matter how incompatible they were, she remembered how much effort they had put into this love, this marriage, and how many hardships they had endured.

"Don't move. Take out all your valuables." A low voice suddenly rang out behind her in the darkness, and she felt a chill on her beautiful neck.

She didn't know if it was a knife or something else pressed against her neck, but she knew that the coldness could kill her. Her heart pounded. Normally, in such a situation, her weak heart would have fainted long ago, but now, she suddenly remembered that she had just received her salary of over a thousand yuan in her bag, which represented her child's tuition for the next three months. She couldn't lose this money; she couldn't let her child's tuition fall into someone else's hands.

"Big brother, are you cold?" Xianyu asked softly, telling herself she had to stay calm; she had to protect her child's tuition. A thousand yuan is just a small sum for many people, but for this family, it was something they would risk their lives to protect. They were poor, so poor that they often couldn't even afford medical treatment when they were sick.

The man behind her seemed to pause for a moment: "Stop trying to pull any tricks. I want money. Hand over everything of value you have, or I'll kill you!"

"Brother, how long has it been since you've been with a woman? Want some?" Xianyu added slowly, turning her head slightly. She felt a warm sensation on her neck.

The man breathed heavily, and in the flashing headlights, he looked down and met her star-like eyes. They were eyes filled with tension and helplessness. In the glimpse of the headlights, he saw her beautiful face. Xianyu wasn't the kind of woman who would immediately stun you; her beauty was subtle and serene.

Upon catching a glimpse of her face, the man's eyes gleamed with a hungry intensity: "Heh heh, do you want to sleep with me? Has it been a long time since anyone's satisfied you?"

A tall, thin, burly man's voice, hoarse with surging desire, let out a muffled, lewd, and frivolous laugh.

"I'll sleep with you, but you can spare the money in my bag, okay? There's only a little over 1000 yuan in cash in my bag, my son's tuition money. Without it, he can't go to school. I'm poor, just like you. I don't think you're a bad person, brother; you should be able to take care of a poor woman like me, right?" Xianyu stared blankly at the man, the warmth on her neck continuing. The man's hands trembled violently, and the cold instrument in his hand remained pressed against her neck. She knew she was bleeding, and she couldn't be afraid, she couldn't cry.

Silence, a minute of silence. The man seemed to be weighing the options between money and sex.

"Get up."

"You've pointed something at my neck, I can't stand up."

The man seemed to only then realize that he still had a knife to her neck, and he began to admire her courage. Such a woman deserved his mercy. But her beauty made it impossible for him to suppress his desire for her. As he withdrew the knife, he said, "Don't scream, or you won't know how you died."

With that, he roughly pulled her up, held her tightly, and his mouth eagerly searched for a place to land. Xianyu suppressed the sudden surge of nausea, letting him kiss her lips, her neck, her earlobes, letting his rough hands knead her breasts, letting him pant heavily in her ear.

He kissed her and led her to a darker corner, urgently unbuttoning her blouse, the cold wind joining in the kisses. He greedily sucked on her nipples, pressing her against the bridge wall. Xianyu's breasts ached violently from his rough sucking and biting, and she couldn't help but let out a soft cry. The soft gasp only served to further ignite the man's primal, animalistic desires. He reached for the buttons on her trousers, but his frantic trembling prevented him from unbuttoning them. With a muffled roar, he ripped the button off. His desire, like a beast unleashed, was now uncontrollable. He eagerly entered her, letting out deep, muffled gasps. It was a beautiful, enchanting body; though the skin was not visible, every surface he touched was smooth and delicate. The man had lived half his life and had never experienced such a exquisite body. He knew that for many nights to come, he would yearn for this body.

Under the man's relentless assault, Xianyu's emotions became complex. She hated the vulgar man writhing on her body, hated the smell of his saliva on her skin. Yet, her lower body defiantly began to crave, her breathing becoming unsteady. Her man was honest and upright; what he could give her in bed could not compare to this rough man. Desire originates from the depths of the human soul. No matter how cultured or chaste she is, at this moment, she cannot resist this yearning deep within her soul. She begins to respond involuntarily, to moan. And the man, as if encouraged, becomes even more aroused. The suppressed explosive power this woman displays is something he has never felt before. He knows she wants to suppress it, but he feels her desire even more strongly.

The man softened, inexplicably, in this moment of passion, he fell in love with her. This woman was different; her courage, her beauty, and the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide all made him want to protect her.

"What's your name?" the man asked gently.

Xianyu froze, silent.

The man thrust into her forcefully, and she couldn't help but let out a soft cry again. "Tell me, what's your name? I've fallen in love with you."

Xianyu's mind was buzzing. She began to feel that all of this was a joke. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could truly feel the tenderness in his words.

Love? The love of a robber?

Xianyu still didn't speak.

The man stopped talking, focusing on caressing her, kissing her, gently yet fiercely leading her through the ocean of sex.

When he reached his climax and was about to ejaculate, he suddenly withdrew from her. He didn't want his semen to cause her any trouble. But at this moment, Xianyu suddenly felt a sense of gratitude towards this strange robber. She hadn't used an IUD since their marriage, and these past few days had been her fertile period. She was grateful for the man's final act of kindness.

The man grabbed her bag.

Xianyu was stunned; she hadn't expected that after giving her body, she would still lose her money.

"We agreed you wouldn't steal my money,"

the man said, shoving the bag back into Xianyu's hand. "Go get a new ID card."

He pulled her close, hugged her tightly one last time, kissed her lips, and turned to leave.

Xianyu slumped to the ground, her mind blank.

Ten minutes later, Xianyu began to straighten her clothes and walked numbly out of the dark underpass. Standing under a streetlamp, she opened her small bag; the money was still there, but her ID card was missing.

Xianyu went to the street and bought a new outfit. She went into a bathroom, stood in front of the mirror, and stared blankly at herself. There was dried blood on her neck and a long, shallow cut. She gently removed her clothes; there were patches of red on her breasts. She slowly walked under the lotus seedpod, letting the water droplets stream down her head. She didn't close her eyes; the pain of the water entering them washed away her tears.

[The End] [ Last edited by Beauty Killer on 2011-1-16 16:11 ]

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