Suzhou woman

I was born and raised in Suzhou, and later went to university not far from home, in Hangzhou. As a university student in the 1970s, I don't consider myself a dinosaur. I'm 160cm tall, weigh 90kg, and have fair skin. There's an old saying that Suzhou and Hangzhou produce beauties, which probably refers to me. There weren't many university students back then, so I was very proud. Of course, very few people dated back then; there was no cohabitation like there is now. I remember a senior was expelled from school because she was three months pregnant. Thinking about it now, such a trivial matter was a sensation back then.

To be modest, although my eyes are a bit small, they're still much bigger than Sandy Lam's. Considering my figure and skin, I was basically surrounded by flies in the engineering university. Out of vanity and because I was so repressed in high school, I started dating the class monitor in my sophomore year. He was of medium build, dark-skinned, and had a strong leadership presence. I felt we were quite compatible. Back then, there was no concept of marriage just because we were dating. I just had some free time, and I had a classmate to keep me company. We were together for three years, and we definitely kissed and hugged, but nothing serious. The main reason was the trauma I experienced when a senior was expelled for getting pregnant. It left me traumatized and psychologically scarred. I was afraid of being expelled and having no face to go home. Looking back, I was so foolish; I missed the best years of my life and sowed the seeds of my future misery.

My boyfriend also had desires at the time, but he was incredibly patient. Whenever he held me close and kissed me, I could feel a hard thing pressing against me. His hands touched my breasts, and when he tried to put his hand inside my underwear, I trembled and said, "Save it for our wedding night." He never touched my underwear again after that. I didn't dare touch his hard thing either, which is a real shame. The biggest regret is that we didn't end up together. I forgot to mention, his hometown is a small city in Northeast China. When I graduated, his father insisted he go home to work. He's a very filial son and said, "While parents are alive, one shouldn't travel far," and then asked if I wanted to go back with him. I never considered leaving paradise for that rural-like place. We still cried our eyes out when we broke up. After all, we'd been together for three years. How many three-year periods does one have in a lifetime?

I'd spent four years in Hangzhou and grown to love it, so I stayed and worked in a design department

. My family kept urging me to find a boyfriend, but I refused to see anyone, wanting to calm down. After all, the pain of first love wouldn't heal quickly. Three years later, my father was very anxious and asked a friend to introduce me to a wealthy local man in Hangzhou. Since my father insisted on meeting him because it was a friend's introduction, and I felt a bit bored being alone—all my girlfriends had boyfriends—I agreed. At first glance, I didn't feel any attraction; after all, it wasn't my first love. I just noticed the man's bright clothes—a suit and tie, clearly designer brands. He was decent-looking, of medium build, with fair skin. He wasn't particularly strong or thin, and he didn't have the commanding presence of my first love, so I didn't feel any attraction. After meeting him, I told my father that I hadn't found anyone I liked, but the man had fallen for me at first sight. He would call me all the time, invite me to dinner, and tell me that it was okay if I didn't agree, we could just be friends. Looking back now, it was so naive and foolish. What kind of good friends are there between men and women? I started dating him just like that. Since other people knew that a man was always looking for me, no one introduced me to any boyfriends anymore. He finally touched me in an unexpected way. It was because I was unexpectedly sick and stayed in my dormitory for a week, feeling very weak. He personally cooked soup for me every day and fed me, looking at me with concern. I thought that I was far from home and didn't know many people in Hangzhou, yet someone cared about me so much, and I couldn't help but cry. He dipped his finger in his tears and put it in his mouth, saying it was salty. I said the most primal flirting thing a Chinese woman could say: "You're so silly," and then he kissed me.

The early days after we got married were alright. We traveled around, ate out or at his parents' house, and made love in bed at night. He always asked me to give him oral sex, but he never gave me any. He felt that a woman's genitals were dirty, but he liked to have sex there. He also wanted to try anal sex like in Western porn, but as soon as he tried to penetrate me, I screamed in pain, and he never dared to try it again. Later, after more experiences, I realized that maybe it was because there was no lubrication the first time, and another man took advantage of me. My first anal sex was with another man, which made him extremely happy, saying that I had regained my virginity. After marriage, I was taught by my husband to be like a slut, instead of a proper lady. When he had sex with me, he made me say "fuck," and I got used to it. Every time we had sex, I would say "fuck" on my own initiative. At that time, I didn't have the awareness of orgasm. So I felt that this was okay, but it wasn't like the ecstasy and life-or-death experience described in novels, nor did it have the feeling that "a woman will be with whoever she has sex with" as described in novels. I also didn't understand what Eileen Chang meant when she said that the vagina is the gateway to a woman's soul. I couldn't fathom the direct connection between the vagina and the soul. Sex was supposed to be pleasurable, but linking it to the soul seemed far-fetched. It wasn't until I had sex with a significant man in my life that I understood the connection.

My husband never gave me an orgasm. He would just lift my legs onto his shoulders, finish, and then go to sleep. I wasn't particularly interested in orgasms back then. Later, after we had a child, he got a promotion and was constantly out socializing. We hired a nanny, but he basically neglected everything else, let alone cooking. He was always drunk, and when he came home, he'd have sex with me regardless of whether I wanted to or not. His breath was nauseating, but I let him do it so as not to wake our daughter. He'd just endure it for a few minutes anyway. There was practically no pleasure in it. My relationship with my husband grew increasingly strained, and we often argued and threatened divorce. He seemed indifferent, saying, "If you want to leave, then get out. There are plenty of younger, prettier women out there." He was completely unfazed.

However, as I grew older, I felt a growing, burning desire within me, while he did it less and less. Once or twice a month was considered a lot. Seeing him come home drunk every night and go straight to his room to sleep made me very uncomfortable. At this time, I was in my thirties, the prime of my life, how could I endure it? So I often cried secretly, but I couldn't let my daughter see.

[The End]

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Suzhou woman

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