After my husband cheated on me, I became promiscuous.

After my husband cheated on me, I became promiscuous.
For the past twenty-seven years, I've been very traditional and conservative, and my husband has been my only man. Our sex
position was always the same: missionary. My moans were limited to a few soft "ahs" when I couldn't hold back

anymore. My underwear was ordinary; I dared not
wear anything sexy or lingerie, and I was ashamed to wear anything like that. I didn't own any miniskirts or tank tops, not even anything that wasn't revealing but sexy .
After marrying my husband, I stopped wearing them altogether, afraid he would think I was promiscuous and stop loving
me.

My husband and I met after graduating from university, and we went from acquaintances to lovers. On our wedding night, I
gave him my most precious virginity.

After marriage, unlike most men who treat women like treasures before marriage but become like
maids afterward, my husband still doted on me. I felt incredibly happy.

I was lost in this blissful life for two years and gave birth to a beautiful daughter. Because my husband owns
a successful company, he doesn't let me work, so I became
one of countless housewives. I stayed home taking care of my daughter, doing the things a housewife should do every day, and most importantly, I had a loving
husband . I was content.

However, happiness isn't something that can be held onto forever. Two years later, in the autumn, I was still doing the same thing every day,
cooking dinner and waiting for my husband. I waited from six in the evening until nine, and my daughter finally fell asleep at eight,
but my husband still hadn't returned. I started to panic, worried that something had happened to him. I called his cell phone, but it was off; I called his company phone, but
no one answered.

I wondered if he had gone out with friends, but in my past experience,
he always invited me when he went out with friends. Thinking of this, I quickly changed my clothes and went out to look for him. I had to go to his company first;
maybe he hadn't heard my call because of something.

With a heavy heart, I went straight to my husband's company. After arriving at the building, I used the spare
employee card he had left at home to enter the office building and went straight to his office on the 18th floor. After entering the company with that card, I saw a faint light coming from
my husband's office. My initial excitement quickly faded, and I rushed to his office.

Strangely, I didn't find my husband in the office, only his coat on the hanger. I breathed
a sigh of relief , thinking, "He probably went to the restroom."

Suddenly, I heard a groan, a sound full of provocation. Without thinking much, I immediately
felt . It was already past 9 pm, and dark. Finding my husband in the office
had eased my worries, so this instinctive fear made me think, "Is there something unclean?" My
heart was pounding. Everyone has curiosity; aren't the protagonists in horror movies like that?
I was no exception. Driven by curiosity, I followed the sound.

The sound came from the break room. Standing three meters away, I hesitated, staring at the door. I had a strong
feeling that something bad was about to happen, and I didn't want to see it. I was terrified, afraid that
my fears would become reality, but the desire to know the truth grew stronger.

After a moment's hesitation, I went over and cautiously opened the door a crack. The scene before me left my
mind blank. I saw my husband standing naked beside the desk, his back to me, thrusting.
His two smooth, white thighs were tightly wrapped around his waist, his toes clenching and
scrambling .

"Ah... um... faster... harder... fuck me... fuck me to death!"

My husband suddenly stopped, and the woman pressed her legs down hard on his buttocks, twisting her body
back forth: "Don't stop, come in quickly, I can't take it anymore, hurry up!"

"How do I go in? What are you? What am I going to do inside? Tell me quickly, or I won't do it anymore."

"Put it in! I'm a slut, I'm a slut who needs to be fucked! This little slut wants a big cock, wants a big
cock to fuck my pussy!"

With the woman's shouts, she trembled more and more violently. My husband couldn't hold back any longer and thrust in hard,
then pumped in and out rapidly...

I didn't rush to stop this lewd battle. I don't remember how I got home. Lying in bed, I cried
silently , not knowing what to do. It felt like the sky had fallen over my head. I was afraid my husband
didn't want me anymore. Feeling helpless, I curled up in the blankets, hugging my legs, burying my head in my knees,
my whole body trembling.

I drifted off to sleep, and when I woke up, I found myself in the most familiar, the most comforting, the safest
embrace. Still half-asleep, I thought I'd just had a dream, and
felt a sense of relief, a relaxation I'd never felt before. But suddenly, I realized last night wasn't a dream. I hugged my husband
tightly , gazing lovingly at him as he slept, afraid he would leave me.

My husband seemed to sense my gaze. He opened his eyes, looking at me with immense tenderness and deep
remorse said, "I'm sorry, honey. I was working overtime last night, and my phone
died. I went to the bathroom when you called the company, so I didn't hear it. From now on, if I don't come home at night, don't wait for me. Go to sleep early
! Did you stay up late waiting for me last night? Look, you haven't even taken your clothes off. Did you have a nightmare last night? It's all my fault
." Hearing my husband's gentle, affectionate words, I burst into tears.

"Honey, what's wrong? What's wrong, honey? Were you scared by a nightmare? Don't be afraid, honey's here!"
My husband hugged me tightly, his warm hands stroking my back. I stared intently into my husband's
eyes: "Honey, do you love me?" My husband was taken aback for a moment, then looked at me with unwavering determination and seriousness, and
said, "Yes!" I smiled through my tears. I could see it in my husband's eyes, and I could
understand my husband loved me, and that had never changed.

In the following days, my husband kept his promise, coming home on time every night, even when he was busy at work,
making sure to come home to be with me during his working hours.

My constant worry was whether he no longer loved me, but after hearing him say "I love you," I let go of
that maddening thought. These past few days, afraid I'd have nightmares, my husband has been coming home early every day to hold
me as we sleep.

I'm not stupid; I'm not a foolish woman. I won't cause a scene at my husband's company after discovering his infidelity; I won't
go looking for trouble with that woman, argue with her, or retaliate against her; and I certainly won't seek revenge for my husband's infidelity.
Cheating would be utterly devastating for me, ruining my marriage. Even if I didn't cheat, using the first two
methods would distance my husband, essentially pushing him into someone else's arms. Even if we didn't divorce, it would
create a huge rift between us.

My first thought was, why would my husband cheat? Why would he cheat on me if he loved me so much?
I was completely baffled. In the two years since we got married, I've always revolved around my husband, and some of my former close friends
have drifted away. Even though we still cherish our friendship, it's hard to talk about it. I could only find answers
online .

The internet is truly amazing; there are countless explanations for my situation, all sorts of
examples . However, most of these examples share a common thread: it's not that the husband doesn't love them anymore. I
think this is the only explanation for my problems with my husband.

Due to my upbringing and my introverted personality, I've never experienced sex. Before marriage,
the only had was that a virgin's first time is very painful.

While I wouldn't call myself a stunning beauty, I'm certainly a first-rate woman with a great figure, so naturally, I had
countless suitors. Being introverted and only wanting
to date men I considered my future husband, I naturally ignored them all. Eventually, everyone kept their distance, saving me
a lot of trouble. In the words of the men, I'm as pure as a blank sheet of paper, which I think is the main reason my husband
was attracted to me .

As mentioned earlier, when we have sex, we use the most basic lying position. He's suggested trying different
positions , but I'm too shy. Traditional values constantly hold me back, making me afraid that he'll
think I'm too promiscuous and stop loving me.

After reading the explanations from netizens, I suddenly realized I'd been wrong all along. Because I
couldn't attract my husband in bed, his desires remained unsatisfied. Although he loves me and wouldn't actively cheat,
my husband is so outstanding—handsome, rich, and a good person—it's hard for him not to be tempted by other women. This is
exactly what everyone means when they say "men are driven by their lower bodies." Men
don't have the same control over their sexual desires as women, so it's not hard to understand why my husband cheated.

But I couldn't help feeling angry: "If you have those kinds of thoughts, you can tell me! Am I not obligated
?" But then I felt relieved. My husband had made various requests before, and I always
refused , so he had to rush things. Our sex life felt like homework.

I had to change my current state; I had to keep my husband firmly by my side. I
made up my mind to change myself.

I didn't know how to change; I felt lost. How could I become more promiscuous?
I didn't know where to start, so I decided to search online.

Finally, I compiled all the methods together, and I blushed as I read them. Good heavens! This is too
promiscuous Can I accept it? I thought about how my husband would gradually drift away from me. I didn't care about anything else; for
my husband, I was willing to risk everything!

First, I needed to change my clothing to make myself sexy yet elegant. Then, I prepared several sets of
sexy lingerie and a few sets of sexy nightgowns. Most importantly, I needed to boldly embrace various sexual
positions and moan during sex. I needed to let go, not suppress my feelings, and express them openly.

I decided to go for it. I could just buy the clothes at a department store. I remember being so shy when I went shopping for clothes that I
didn't dare lift my head. But hearing the saleswomen compliment me on how beautiful and sexy I looked, and seeing the envious looks from other
women , I felt a surge of joy and confidence in my plan. I
didn't wear the clothes home immediately; I wanted my husband to be the first to see them, to know that his wife was the most beautiful.

Clothes were easy to buy, but I was too embarrassed to buy the sexy lingerie and nightgowns.
Just when I didn't know what to do, I saw an advertisement for an online sex toy store, and I was overjoyed
. But seeing those lingerie and nightgowns in the store, imagining my husband's expression when he saw me wearing them...
oh ! I couldn't take it anymore, it was too embarrassing.

Of course, I kept all of this a secret from my husband. I wanted to surprise him, hehe!

Most importantly, I wanted to learn how to be lewd, so I downloaded a lot of pornographic movies from the internet. But
I never dared to watch them until the very day I was going to surprise my husband.

That day, I sent the children to their grandmother's house. When I got home, I changed into sexy
lingerie , and a black sexy evening dress that I had specially prepared for the day. The thin, form-fitting fabric tightly
revealed my proud figure.

The strapless dress, 15 centimeters above the knee, revealed a small section of my breasts, with a deep
cleavage in the center. Wearing flesh-colored pantyhose, my long, straight, and voluptuous legs became even more alluring. Wearing
black high heels with leggings further accentuated my curvaceous figure, and the black evening
dress made my snow-white, silky skin look even smoother and more flawless.

Seeing myself in the mirror, I realized how sexy and beautiful I was. Imagining
my husband's expression when he sees me, my face flushes.

I turn off the main light in the living room and turn on the wall lamps, making the room dim and mysterious. I set up
a Western-style dining table in the center of the living room, lit candles, placed a bottle of red wine, and put on some suggestive music on the DVD player.
After doing all this, I call my husband and tell him to come home early; there's a surprise waiting for him.

Excited, I sit on the sofa waiting for him, but suddenly I feel anxious and uneasy:
Will my husband be happy to see me like this for him? Will he think his wife is too promiscuous?
I start having all sorts of wild thoughts, both expectant and afraid.

Just as I was feeling anxious, the doorbell rang, startling me
. I rushed to open the door for my husband, feeling both excited and nervous.

After the door opened, I took a few steps back. I lowered my head, my hands fidgeting awkwardly. I had
never , and even in front of my husband, I felt incredibly shy.

When my husband came in and saw me, his expression shifted from stunned silence to surprise, then to delight, and finally to utter infatuation.
He stared intently at me, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe. I nervously stole glances at him, and seeing
that infatuated look in his eyes, I felt relieved. I knew I had succeeded; that kind of look was something my husband had never seen before.
He'd shown it the first time he saw me, and I felt he was even more infatuated now.

A few minutes later, my husband excitedly took a few quick steps, hugged me, stroked my long hair, and looked at me with adoration
, saying, "Wife, you're so beautiful!"

I hugged him tightly, looking at him shyly, and asked, "Really?"

"Yes, you're the most beautiful in the world!"

I happily took his hand, and we walked to the dining table to the beautiful music. We chatted by candlelight
about , just like when we were dating, feeling incredibly happy.

During our conversation, my husband's eyes kept darting over me, making me incredibly embarrassed.
It was the first time I'd ever dressed like this in front of him. His gaze grew increasingly intense, just like
it .

"My beautiful wife, may I have this dance?" my husband invited me like a gentleman.

As he stood up, I saw a bulge in his crotch; he was hard. I
felt . All women are like me; it's a source of pride to have the person you love attract you.
At the same time, I remembered the first time I slept with my husband. My heart was pounding, and my face was
flushed red.

We danced together, and my husband's hands gradually became restless, caressing me from my waist to my back, then to
my buttocks .

"Wife, you're so sexy today."

"No, I want to be your sexy little cat every day!" I said boldly, but regretted it as soon as I said it.
How could I say that?

As soon as I finished speaking, my husband excitedly lowered his head and kissed me. His tongue skillfully
sucked in my mouth, and I tried my best to respond to him. My husband's movements also began, and with his movements, I
slowly began to feel something.

We couldn't wait to walk to the bedroom while being intimate. My husband gently placed me on the bed, kissing my forehead,
eyes , nose, mouth, and ears. He used his hands to unbutton my clothes as he kissed me, and I felt myself
getting wetter and wetter.

After my husband stripped me down to my underwear, he stared at me with wide eyes, burning with a raging
fire. Under his gaze, I turned my head away, unable to look at him. A black lace bra, slightly sheer,
revealed glimpses of my nipples. My black panties were semi-transparent at the genitals, allowing a
glimpse of my pubic hair.

I was wearing sexy lingerie! This was my first time, and I trembled
uncontrollably I fidgeted and tried to sneak a peek at my husband's reaction, but I didn't dare. Wearing the lingerie and
feeling his gaze, I felt a surge of heat coursing through me, and my lower body grew even wetter. This feeling
only intensified my shame.

"Wife, you're so sexy, I can't take it anymore!" my
husband the rustling of his clothes as he undressed, and he pounced on me like a wolf, all within
seconds.

He lay on top of me, looking at me, and said, "Wife, thank you! I love you so much." Hearing his sweet
words, I kissed him passionately for the first time in my life.

After a while, he slowly moved his kisses to my breasts, a tingling sensation slowly spreading through me. My husband
pulled off my bra and suddenly took my nipple into his mouth
. The unexpected stimulation made me let out a soft "Ah!" Hearing this, he sucked even harder, waves of pleasure numbing my senses, my mind
going blank as I savored the sensation that spread from my nipple throughout my body.

Before I knew it, he had pulled down my panties. Coming to my senses
, I watched as he kissed my genitals. Just before he reached them, he looked at me and asked, "Is it okay?" I nodded shyly
. He excitedly lowered his head to kiss my genitals. Normally, I
would never let , but for the sake of his life, I didn't care anymore.

An unprecedented pleasure surged through my clitoris, making me moan softly. Seeing my
reaction, he licked even more vigorously. Suddenly, I felt something warm and moist slide into my vagina.
The sensation inside was strange, but strangely pleasurable.

At this point, I couldn't take it anymore. I desperately wanted my husband's big penis inside my vagina, but my past
personality made me ashamed to ask him. This made me incredibly uncomfortable, and I could only desperately twist my body to resist the
intense urge to be penetrated.

My husband seemed to sense my impatience and prepared to insert himself. When I felt the head of his penis touch the entrance
, my sensation intensified. It was like having something I desperately wanted to eat right in front of my mouth, but not being able to taste it
. I was going crazy with discomfort. I couldn't help but call out to my husband, "Husband, hurry! Hurry! Put it in!
Hurry, I can't take it anymore!"

My husband seemed greatly encouraged and thrust in all at once. "Ah..." Instantly, I felt a sense of
relief , and my empty vagina filled up with the penetration. That pleasurable sensation made
me let out a long sigh.

Then came my husband's rapid thrusting. The intense pleasure assaulted my brain. This time, the intense
pleasure made me not suppress my feelings as I usually did, but rather express them freely and joyfully.

"Mmm...mmm...mmm...ah..." My husband became even more excited by my cries, something his
wife had never done during sex before. This made him even more aroused, and his thrusts quickened.

As my husband increased the speed of his thrusts, my pleasure intensified, and my cries became more rapid:
"Ah...ah...ah...ah..." With such rapid thrusting, my orgasm was fast approaching.

After more than forty thrusts, the intense pleasure overwhelmed me, and my cries changed from rapid
to heart-wrenching screams.

Before my orgasm had completely subsided, my husband also reached his climax, ejaculating, his hot
semen flooding my uterus, causing my lingering orgasm to surge like waves, one after another, my whole body
trembling violently.

After the orgasm, my husband held me in his arms, gently comforting me. At that moment, I realized
how foolish I had been. I realized that letting go of myself and having sex with my husband was so pleasurable. I thought: 'If only
I had let go sooner.' Suddenly

, it dawned on me that I'd forgotten to wear my sexy pajamas. Hehe, no problem, I'll wear them tomorrow night.
"Okay, take it slow! Haha!"

Since that night, my husband and I have experienced a dramatic change in our sex life. My husband even
bought me sexy lingerie and nightgowns, which I accepted without hesitation. With the help of adult films, my husband and I tried various
sex positions from those films. Although I feel quite daring now, I still
feel , but for my husband, I'm willing to give everything.

A year has passed in the blink of an eye, and I've learned a lot during this time. To maintain my
figure, I spend time exercising every day. Because I need to take care of my child, I had to buy some
exercise equipment to practice at home. I saw online that many people say yoga is a very effective exercise for maintaining flexibility
, and many things in sex require a woman to have good flexibility,
so I started learning it online and practiced it every day.

But I also need to take care of my fair and smooth skin, but my child is still young, and I have to take care of her.
Luckily, I'm only 28, and my skin is still so good. I figured I could wait until the child is older before sending her
.

Thankfully, this wish is about to come true in the next few days. A while ago, my husband and I discussed
whether we should send our three-year-old to kindergarten. I was absolutely against it at the time, but my husband told me, "I'm
reluctant too, but a child's education needs to start early. Although we're both well-educated and knowledgeable,
we're not teachers. Besides, in kindergarten, she can be with many other children, which
will make her happier, help her learn social skills, and develop her independence. She
won't grow up to be a spoiled, arrogant girl who only knows how to rely on her parents."

My husband's words made me think for several days. For my child's sake, for her future, I had no choice but to agree.
No parent wants their young child to be neglected; what parent doesn't
hope their child will be successful? I made up my mind to send my child to kindergarten.

After several days of searching, my husband and I found a well-regarded kindergarten in the city. We didn't
enroll her in the full-day program because we didn't want her to lack parental love. She spends her days with her friends and teachers,
and her evenings with her parents—a perfect solution, even though it's a bit far from our home. However, I'm home all day and
don't have much to do, so picking her up won't be a hassle.

Today is her sixth day at kindergarten. I remember the first day, she absolutely refused to go,
crying and begging for her mom and dad. I couldn't bear to see her like that, but for her sake, I
steeled myself and ignored her. Unexpectedly, when I picked her up in the evening, she asked me reluctantly
when she would go back to kindergarten. It made my heart ache, and I was both amused and touched.

Today, I wore the outfit my husband bought me yesterday: a V-neck blazer, very form-fitting,
and the ultra-thin, soft fabric perfectly accentuated my upper body.
The skirt, 20 centimeters above the knee, was the same fabric as the blazer, clinging tightly to me and highlighting my full, rounded hips
. Because the outfit was so thin, I only wore a bikini-style lace bra,
barely , and sexy thongs. I didn't wear stockings, but rather pink high heels.

When my husband saw me in this outfit, he was practically drooling. If I hadn't stubbornly refused
, and it was time for work, he would have definitely taken advantage of me on the spot.

When it was time to leave, I discovered my car was malfunctioning and wouldn't start. My husband offered to drive me, but I
knew he was very busy with a big project, so I refused, telling him a taxi
would be fine. Seeing my insistence, he had no choice but to give up.

After dropping my child off at school, I went back to the street to hail a taxi home, but it was rush
hour. Taxis were hard to find; I finally managed to get one, but someone else snatched it. I was furious
and decided to force my way into it the next time.

Persistence paid off, and I finally managed to grab one, shoving my way in without even
seeing the driver. I gave my neighborhood number and closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. Last night, my husband and I had a real battle
, going to bed very late. This morning, I had to prepare breakfast for them, which I never skimped on. Breakfast is important, after
all .

I vaguely felt waves of pleasure coming from my vagina and let out a soft moan. My husband is so naughty;
he doesn't even leave me alone in the morning. Didn't I satisfy him last night? His tongue was exploring inside me,
sending waves of pleasure through me. Why has his tongue technique changed? Hehe, but it feels so good.

"Mmm...mmm...mmm..." So good! Oh! Why is my husband's tongue so big? And
so long, the stimulation is even more intense. Something's not right! How could this be?

Suddenly I felt dizzy. I think I was just dropping the kids off, how could this be? Was I dreaming again?
I was startled by this thought! No, no, that wasn't a dream. I took a taxi after dropping the kids off! Then I
pretended to sleep, and then this happened.

I suddenly woke up. This wasn't a dream, it was real! What was happening? A deep fear enveloped
me. At this moment, the pleasure in my lower body made me tremble slightly. A sliver of consciousness told me that someone wanted me, or was
raping me! I struggled violently, but I felt that the space was too small. It felt like I was in the back seat of a car.
From this feeling, I was in the very center of the back seat, and he was in the empty seat between the driver and passenger seats.

What made me even more upset was that the man who was violating me had his head buried between my legs, and his two large hands were tightly gripping
my buttocks. My legs were no threat to him at all. My hands were also tied behind my back, making it impossible for me to use my upper body for
leverage; my struggles were futile. I tried to open my eyes to see my surroundings, but my eyes
were also bound with a cloth of some unknown material, so I couldn't see anything at all.

To make matters worse, I was naked. A feeling of helplessness rose from the depths of my heart. I couldn't
let him succeed. I twisted my body violently, trying to prevent his mouth from touching my genitals, but the more I resisted,
the stronger he became, gripping my buttocks tightly. That hateful tongue rapidly stimulated my vagina, a
strange pleasure stimulating my brain.

How could I feel this? I was being violated by someone who wasn't my husband! I don't want this, I don't want this...
That feeling! "Help! Someone save me! Husband, save me! Rape! Someone save me...
Ugh ..." I cried out desperately. But my cries didn't reach any kind souls; instead
, they only aroused the man who was violating me. He intensified his stimulation, causing me
to moan intermittently as I cried out.

My strength was fading away. He climbed on top of me, kissing my breasts. I was desperate!
"Husband, where are you? Your wife is kissing your body, your husband, where are you? Come
save me! Hurry, your wife is about to lose her virginity! Husband..."

Thinking of my husband's gentle words, his loving eyes, his warm embrace,
I felt deep regret. I regretted not letting him take our daughter to school that morning. I hated myself for being so beautiful,
hated myself for dressing so sexily, and hated the man now on top of me, violating me. I
didn't want someone else to possess my husband's body.

I opened my mouth, cursing this shameless man, but the more I cursed, the more vigorous he became. Despair gripped me
; there was definitely no one around, otherwise he wouldn't be violating me here.

Instinctively, I cried, a woman's weakness welling up inside me. "Please, please let me go! I have a husband ! I can't betray my husband, please, please, let me go!" I pleaded with this man,
sobbing . I didn't hear the voice I most longed to hear, "I'm sorry, I'll let you go, so you have a husband ." I didn't hear him say a word; he just silently enjoyed my body, which he was so proud of, probably afraid that if I made a sound, I would recognize him. In this unfamiliar environment, unable to see, bound, even the strength to resist was exhausted . 'Will he hurt me? What if he hurts me? I can't let him hurt me, my husband, my child needs me. I can't…' I gave up resisting, searching for every excuse for myself. Before I knew it, he was kissing my genitals again, the pleasure shooting straight to my brain. I felt ashamed of my reaction , the feeling of waking up resurfacing in my mind. I was deeply remorseful; why had my body become so sensitive? I cried for the onslaught of pleasure. Slowly, for some reason, I became increasingly immersed in the pleasure, my body growing hotter, a sliver of clarity bringing me back to my senses. I couldn't feel this way; how could I betray my husband? This damned body. A strong sense of shame made me desperately resist this body that had betrayed me, betrayed my husband. But the more I resisted, the stronger the pleasure became . That emptiness—I enjoyed the spreading emptiness, the pleasure of my sensitive body being played with by that man—while simultaneously filling me with intense shame and deep self-reproach. Perhaps the man couldn't resist, or perhaps he realized I was aroused; he hastily stripped off his clothes, spread my legs, and pressed his glans against my vaginal opening. I felt that penis, different from my husband's, pressing against my vaginal opening, a feeling of utter helplessness washing over me. It's over; this man is going to penetrate me! At that moment, the profound emptiness amplified several times over. I desperately wanted that penis to fill me, to ease the itching in my vagina. "Ah..." The penis penetrated my vagina, making me let out a long sigh. Then came the frenzied thrusting , leaving me no time to feel its shape, length, or thickness, no time to think. "Ah...ah...ah...ah..." The powerful and rapid thrusting made me forget my surroundings , forget that the man on top of me was a stranger, forget that I was being raped, I was simply enjoying it. "Ah...husband, I'm coming, I'm going to climax...ah...faster!faster!" Just before reaching climax , I heard my own moans and realized that I wasn't with my husband. I was being penetrated by a stranger, a man whose face I didn't even know. I had betrayed my husband, moaning under another man, about to . The intense shame led me to an unprecedentedly intense climax. The intense climax left my mouth agape, unable to utter a sound, my body tense, trembling violently. The man, unable to hold back any longer under my powerful climax, ejaculated, the scalding semen hitting deep inside my body, making my orgasm linger for a long time. I don't know when I came to my senses from the afterglow of my orgasm, but I felt someone helping me put on , constantly touching and rubbing my body. I was weak and powerless, unable to stop him. After I was dressed, that person pushed me out of the car. I was outside the wall . This road was a fast lane, not a commercial area, so there were few pedestrians. After removing the blindfold, my mind was blank, and I just stared blankly at everything that had happened. After a while, only one voice echoed in my mind: 'Go home, go home.' I staggered towards home. When I got home, I opened the door and walked towards the bedroom, looking at the sofa, the TV, the walls, and the flowers and plants on the flower stand by the window on the left side of the living room . I walked blankly into the bedroom, and in that instant, I saw my husband 's wedding photo. He was gazing at me tenderly, and I was gazing back at him with happiness. Staring intently at the photo, I slowly slumped down, tears streaming down my face and onto the floor… I wept, weeping for my fate, for the filth of my body, for my promiscuity , for betraying my husband. I rushed into the bathroom like a madwoman, violently stripping off my clothes, turning the shower on full pressure , and scrubbing myself vigorously, trying to cleanse my unclean body. My skin turned red from scrubbing, and a slight pain made me think of death; perhaps death would bring relief. I staggered towards the kitchen, bumping into a small cabinet and falling to the ground, the contents clattering down. My attention was drawn to a photo frame that had fallen in front of me. The photo showed my daughter playing with me, her innocent smile on her face, and my husband's satisfied and tender gaze watching us play. 'I can't die. My daughter is so young, and this is the time when she needs her mother. Losing her mother at such a young age will cause her so much pain. I love my husband so much; I don't want to leave him. My husband loves me so much.'

I left, and he'll be in so much pain. I don't want to see him like that. He's so frail; he needs my care.
I can't die, I absolutely can't die.

But what can I do if I don't die? I'm so ashamed. I actually reached that orgasm while being raped
. I'm a shameless woman. My husband said he wanted me to be promiscuous, only promiscuous with him. But
I… If my husband knew, he would never love me again, he would never want me. What should I do? Right, my husband doesn't know
yet ! How can he know if I don't tell him? I can't tell him, I can't let him know!

I felt like I'd found a huge straw in the water; my sadness subsided a little, and I calmed
down . I tidied up the small cabinet, went back to the bathroom, and thoroughly washed my vagina. Even though it was my safe period,
I still had to be careful not to get pregnant.

I dried myself, put on a nightgown, lay on the bed, and buried my head deep in the pillow. I thought of
the question I least wanted to think about: why did I orgasm in that situation? I suddenly recalled my
experiences with my husband from that night until now. Was I really promiscuous for my husband? Ever since that climax,
haven't I been thinking about that intoxicating, blissful feeling every day?

I've completely changed all my habits, becoming my husband's slut. Think about
the workouts I do—isn't it all to prepare myself for intense sex, to make myself enjoy it longer? And
the yoga I practice—isn't it all for those positions in sex? And the skincare routines I've
been doing—isn't it all to protect my skin so my man can be aroused?

And when I was violated today, didn't I also have a faint sense of anticipation? Can't my husband
satisfy me? No, that doesn't make sense. He's got a good size, about 16 or 17 centimeters long, and he lasts a long time,
always bringing me to multiple orgasms. So why am I so wanton today? Am I really a slut
? And not satisfied with just my husband? What's wrong with me?

I was so scared. I was scared that I really was a slut. I was scared of the budding desire within me growing,
scared of being condemned by everyone, and even more
scared that my husband would abandon me, leave me. That would be worse .

I couldn't let that happen. I had to suppress that budding desire and not let it grow. Suddenly,
I thought of that stranger I didn't even know looked at today, the one who gave me that intense orgasm.
The thought of the thrill of rape mixed with the feeling of adultery made me unknowingly become incredibly wet.

I dared not think any further. I was afraid I would completely succumb. I fiercely suppressed my feelings, a deep
sense of self-reproach swirling in my heart…
Three months passed quickly, the winter nights cold and devoid of warmth. I stared at
the beautiful starry sky, but felt as if every star was blinking and mocking me. They mocked my inability to
recover from the ordeal of sending the children to school, mocked how I couldn't help but recall that
exhilarating ; they mocked how the strange
stimulation made me so aroused that my orgasms with my husband were much
stronger . I felt a deep sense of guilt towards my husband and shame for my shameless behavior.

My husband noticed my unusual behavior, but he interpreted it as me making new progress in my development, which
excited him and gave him a sense of accomplishment. Hearing his words, I felt incredibly ashamed, but also
somewhat relieved.

My husband works for a software company, and we settled in a provincial capital city in central China, near the western part of the country.
Through his abilities and keen business sense, he has grown the company significantly. However, because the city's economic
prospects , development potential, and economic exchange couldn't meet the company's current needs, he wanted to
expand the company to a more economically developed city in the southeast coastal region.

Because this was a major decision, it couldn't be taken lightly, so my husband personally oversaw the arrangements. Since the software company's
main marketing channel is online, the location of the company
doesn't matter much. The reason we're optimistic about the economic and technological exchange opportunities in the southeast coastal region is
primarily .

However, there are many companies as large as my husband's in the economically developed cities of the southeast coast,
making the competition for talent extremely fierce. Therefore, my husband will be staying in that city for a long time, at least one
to two years. Although I'll miss him, men's greatest pleasure is in their careers, and as his
wife, I should absolutely stand on his side, so I firmly support him.

Although I will miss him, the biggest problem is causing me great distress and resentment.
When he's around, I can satisfy my sexual desires, but what should I do when he's not by my side?

Before that incident, I always thought I was doing it for my husband, so I dressed sexily to
please . After that incident, I realized that it was precisely because of my sexual desire that I dressed up every day.
I feel my libido is stronger than before. I want to make love with my husband every day. Sometimes he's busy and
can't be with me, and I feel terribly uncomfortable. Luckily, he's very sexually capable, otherwise I'm worried I
won't be able to satisfy him . But my husband is leaving soon. I hugged him tightly and sighed deeply.

"Ah...it's so itchy...it's so itchy down there...what should I do...I can't take it anymore..." I
tossed and turned , unable to sleep. My lower body was numb and itchy, and I felt a little empty, which made me very uncomfortable.

My husband has been gone for half a month. The first few days were okay, but these past few days, the desire has been agonizing.
Thinking about how deeply my husband's penis penetrated my vagina, that feeling of fullness, the pleasure of his penis rubbing against my tender flesh, the more I thought about it, the more
uncomfortable I felt. My hand unconsciously reached down to my genitals, and when I touched my clitoris, pleasure shot through my brain in an instant.
Enjoying this long-lost stimulation, my hand moved faster and faster.

I had never masturbated before. I felt that masturbation was a very bad thing, and I thought only lewd
people would masturbate. Although I became a slut for my husband, it was only for him!
I don't think it's promiscuity; it's normal, as long as it's not for outsiders.

With the help of my hands, I reached that long-awaited climax. After enjoying that cloud-like
feeling , I came to my senses.

Coming to my senses, I felt guilty, so ashamed. How could I do such a thing? Suddenly...
Then I thought of that night, of the pleasure I didn't want, of that unusual orgasm. Then I
thought of the masturbation I'd always considered so vulgar, and then of my husband's face and voice. I felt an even
stronger sense of unforgivable guilt. Thinking of this, I silently shed tears…

For the past few nights, I've resisted the guilt-inducing masturbation. I don't want to do that vulgar thing again,
but the tingling in my genitals and the pleasurable sensation of my fingers touching my clitoris
clashed , making me even more miserable.

Another night like this, I couldn't bear the unbearable pain any longer, I wanted to give in. 'Just this
once , I can't take it anymore, just once is enough. I've already done it once,
so what's one more time? And this is the last time!' Thinking this, I placed my hand
on , the pleasurable sensation flooding my brain once more. As time passed, I increased
the speed of my rubbing, and with the increased speed, an orgasm followed.

After the climax, I blamed myself again. I felt I was too vulgar. Am I really that kind
of woman? Thinking about this, tears streamed down my face again…

“Lately I’ve been so annoyed, so annoyed, so annoyed…” Listening to this song that I’d been wanting to hear the most lately, I
tried to distract myself from my frustration by doing something until I was so sleepy I fell
asleep immediately.

Now, I’m listening to music while browsing websites about women. On a forum, I saw
the word “masturbation,” which I least wanted to see, and I quickly closed it. But out of curiosity, I wanted to know other people
’s opinions on masturbation, so I opened the webpage.

On the webpage, I saw that masturbation, also called self-pleasure, is a very normal physiological behavior, and it
can even treat some diseases and has good physiological health benefits. Seeing this information, I couldn’t believe it;
it felt absurd. How could such a vulgar thing be called normal? But desperate to find a way out, I
started searching for related content on search engines.

On various websites, I found content that greatly excited me, especially the explanations on some professional
medical websites, where experts discussed masturbation. This information thrilled me
; my previous thoughts were wrong, and my behavior wasn't vulgar. Then I realized I
could take care of myself when my husband wasn't around, to avoid feeling so unbearably excited.

Although I saw information that gave me ample reason to masturbate, I still couldn't let go of my inhibitions
and felt vulgar. Some of the claims suggested masturbation was acceptable when sexual desire was overwhelming,
usually once or twice a week, or, more broadly, once or twice a week for most people. Reflecting on
myself, I felt unbearable urges every day and couldn't go a day without them—that wasn't normal, and it made
me feel ashamed. So I couldn't let go.

During a phone call with my husband, I nervously told him about my masturbation. To my
surprise, he wasn't angry; instead, he was very supportive and even said
something that made me incredibly ashamed. My husband said, "Do you want it? Do you really want me to come back and make love to you?"
Recalling our conversation, the image kept flashing through my mind, making
me incredibly aroused and ashamed.

With my husband's support, I began to masturbate more freely in the days that followed, even
learning many masturbation techniques online. Using the showerhead to stimulate my clitoris was indeed much more effective than using my hand, but
one time throes of pleasure, my brain involuntarily increased the water pressure, causing
excruciating pain in my clitoris. So I stopped using it, afraid of injuring it in a moment of loss of control.

I also learned to rub my genitals with a pillow, a technique I really enjoyed. It allowed me to fantasize about
my husband caressing me with his penis between my legs, a feeling that greatly excited me. I
also learned to use my hands to stroke my breasts to increase pleasure.

I used various masturbation methods I found online to satisfy myself. I didn't engage in vaginal stimulation;
I felt that such a clean place shouldn't be touched by my hands or other foreign objects, so I didn't do that.

A few days ago it was okay, but the tingling and emptiness inside my vagina were much worse than when I wasn't masturbating
. I struggled painfully between the tingling, emptiness, and the release that masturbation could provide; this uncomfortable
feeling was driving me crazy.

'Sigh! So what if my hands are dirty! My penis can go in, what else matters?' Thinking this, I
slowly inserted my index finger into my vagina. The tender flesh felt the pleasure of penile insertion. Although it didn't have
the fullness and stimulation of my husband's penis, and it couldn't stimulate the tender flesh from all angles,
I still felt very satisfied after such a long period of abstinence.

My hands rubbed rapidly back and forth and side to side, while my free hands constantly caressed my breasts, seeking greater stimulation to complement
my vagina . As the pleasure increased, orgasm was approaching.

In the moment approaching climax, I unconsciously recalled the intense pleasure that stranger had given me.
That pleasure was truly exquisite. A sliver of reason in my mind told me I shouldn't be thinking about
these things , that I shouldn't betray my husband.

'I can't think about it, I can't think about that shameful pleasure, I can't think about it.' I tried desperately to tell myself not to think about it, but the more I suppressed myself, the more I forced myself, the more the intense pleasure overwhelmed
me when I thought of my husband, making it impossible for me to shake off that long-lost feeling. 'How could I be so shameless!' I cursed myself fiercely, hating myself for being as shameless as other women. I wanted to unleash a torrent of self-reproach to ease my conscience, but influenced by my parents since childhood, I only knew, and dared to say, a few things like, 'You big bad guy, you're not a good person.' I knew some , but I couldn't bring myself to say them. 'Shameless' was something I'd only heard in TV dramas. Then there's the word " hooligan ," but I don't consider myself a hooligan. I'm more like that word I dare not delve into, dare not explore, and dare not utter a single curse. Filled with utter hatred, I slapped myself hard again, feeling a sense of relief. I slapped myself several more times. But right now, what I want most is for my husband to hit me, to punish me for my infidelity. Perhaps only by letting him...

My husband would only feel at ease if he beat me severely. But this thought remained just a fleeting thought;
I dared not tell him. Perhaps a beating would bring me peace of mind, but my beloved husband and my cherished family
would crumble, and I didn't want that to happen.

Touching my swollen face, I felt much better and fell asleep, exhausted from the orgasm and filled with deep
self-reproach .

The next morning, I woke up to a slightly swollen face, and a wave of sadness lingered
. Because I hadn't slept well the night before, I woke up a little late. I hurriedly packed my things for
my daughter , made breakfast, grabbed a few clothes, and headed out.

After dropping her off at school, I drove to a large supermarket I frequent
to some necessities.

After browsing the supermarket for a while, my shopping cart was full. Thinking we were almost out of oil, I headed
towards the rice, flour, and cooking oil section. Halfway there, I suddenly felt someone following me, getting closer and closer.
'Could I be a pervert?' I quickened my pace, glancing around for a more crowded area.

To my horror, the man also quickened his pace. Growing increasingly frightened, I was about to shout when I heard
the man urgently say, "Madam, don't be afraid, I mean no harm, please wait a moment."
Hearing his words, I felt that the man seemed harmless, and in such a crowded place, he wouldn't dare to do
anything inappropriate.

I stopped and turned around to see a man in his thirties rushing towards me anxiously. "
Don't get too close to me, I'm telling you, there are a lot of people here, don't go too far," I quickly
warned him as he drew closer.

Seeing my nervousness and hearing my warning, the man stopped three or four meters away, maintaining
a safe distance. He said gently, "Madam, I'm sorry to bother you so abruptly. I just
noticed a beautiful rose on the back of your pants. I think my wife
would be very happy if I gave it

to her." I was stunned. My pants were pure white, without any
embellishments —a simple pair of tight-fitting pants that perfectly accentuated my curves.
How could such white pants, from waistband to hem, have a flower on them? And a red rose at

that! A sudden realization startled me. I quickly touched my backside and felt a dampness. Understanding
what out that I
had been feeling my period coming, so I had been wearing sanitary pads and avoiding
light . I didn't sleep well last night and woke up late this morning. I was rushing to prepare my daughter's breakfast and
take her to school, so I completely forgot about this.

After realizing what had happened, I was so ashamed I couldn't look at the man.
I also felt embarrassed for mistaking his kindness for a pervert. I was incredibly grateful to this stranger; without him, I don't know
how much more humiliating I would have been. The thought of this man seeing
me in such an embarrassing situation made me even more hesitant to look at him.

"Ma'am, don't
worry I lowered my head and quickly walked to the cashier, feeling the stranger carefully
protecting me from others seeing my predicament. I silently thanked him, feeling guilty for mistaking him for
a pervert and for rudely scolding him.

After finishing at the checkout, my hands were full of heavy bags. "Let me help you with
some! These two big bags, you can carry one in each hand, it'll protect you." Hearing the man's words,
I didn't hesitate, handed him my things, and walked out of the supermarket first, with him following behind to protect me. I thought to myself,
this man is such a thoughtful person, his wife must be very happy.

When we reached my car, he helped me put my things in, and only then did I take a closer look at him.
He was in his thirties, about 178 cm tall, with neat, short hair, neither too thin nor too fat, wearing a
casual outfit. Although he wasn't handsome, he gave off a very honest feeling.

"Thank you so much, I don't know how embarrassing it would have been if it weren't for you." Just as I was looking him over
, he was also helping me load my things into the car, and I quickly thanked him.

"It's nothing, just a small favor, don't be so polite." He still
spoke , and with his clean smile, I trusted him even more.

"How could I? You must thank me! Let me buy you a coffee!"

"Thank you, ma'am. I'm sorry, I have something to attend to. Maybe we'll meet again sometime
. You're busy, I should go now."

Hearing his words, I didn't press him to stay and thank him further, and at the same time, I felt a slight sense of relief.
I felt this man was quite nice; other men would definitely have tried to befriend me.
Considering his politeness, his thoughtfulness in helping, and his gentle manner, I
suddenly thought his wife must be very happy to have such a husband!

After seeing the man off, I got into my car and drove home…
"What are you doing, honey? Thinking about me?"

"Yes, I'm thinking about you so much I can't stand it."

"Hehe! What can't you stand? I don't know!"

"Oh, that's not what I meant. I mean, I miss you so much I'm sad."
I said hastily, pretending to be angry.

"Why are you angry, honey? I know you're thinking about me. What are you thinking about?" my husband said mischievously on the other end of
the phone .

"How could you be so mean? If you say that again, I won't talk to you anymore!" I knew my husband was teasing me, so I pouted
and said angrily.

"Hehe, don't be angry, honey. It's all my
fault . It's all my fault." My husband said to me in that same mischievous tone.

"You still dare to say that? If you say it again, I really won't talk to you anymore." Hearing my husband's teasing words, I
was already A tingling, empty feeling was gently tormenting my nerves. I really wanted to touch my genitals.
But while talking to my husband on the phone, I felt ashamed to do this.

"Honey, when can you come back? I miss you so much."

"Not now, it's the peak season for sex, I can't come back!"

"Then when will you be done?" Hearing my husband's words, I felt incredibly frustrated. I longed for him to eat my cooking
, to see him every day, to see his adoring eyes, to feel his
warm , large hands caressing me, to have him come right now to satisfy my increasingly intense sexual desires.

Thinking of this, and then the thought that he might not be able to come back, the hurt and shame of not being able to express my desires to him
made me cry.

"Wife, wife, what's wrong? It's all my fault. I'll definitely come back to be with you as soon as I'm done
. Wife, don't cry, it breaks my heart to see you like this."

Hearing my husband's concern, I felt much more at ease. Suddenly, I realized I shouldn't have made him
worry He's so busy right now, and if I acted like this, he wouldn't be able to concentrate on his work.

Trying to control my emotions, I told my husband with a hint of joy that he had to come home early after finishing his work,
or I wouldn't talk to him. He replied that he definitely wouldn't dare disappoint his wife and would come home early after finishing.

After chatting with him for a while, I hung up the phone and stared blankly at my husband in our wedding photo. Ever since
I told him about my masturbation, he'd been teasing me intentionally or unintentionally during our phone calls
, making me masturbate intensely after each call.

"That jerk!" I reached down to my genitals again…

Time, like the pleasure of orgasm, always felt so short, vanishing so quickly.

Another month passed in the blink of an eye, and the weather was already very hot, just like my restless mood. These past few days, masturbation
hadn't given me the same satisfaction as before, leaving me feeling stuck and uncomfortable. But not doing it
was unbearable, causing me endless frustration.

The more frustrated I became, the more problems arose. On my way to pick up my daughter in the afternoon, the car inexplicably stalled.
I discovered it was out of gas. This situation filled me with anger and self-blame. With
school , calling a repair shop and waiting for them to come was too late. I couldn't let my daughter
wait; it would be bad for her mental and emotional well-being.

I decided to leave the car there temporarily and go pick her up. I wouldn't take a taxi;
what happened made me very unsafe. So I opted for the bus. With so many people on the bus,
no one would dare do anything on it.

Having made up my mind, I walked to several stops, but none of them had
a bus service . This situation made me very anxious. Finally, I found a suitable stop.

Perhaps it was rush hour; when I entered the stop, I saw many people waiting for the bus
. I didn't want to squeeze in with so many people, after all, I'm a woman, and my clothing wasn't very practical.
However, picking up my daughter was urgent, so when the bus arrived, I boarded without hesitation.

Today I was wearing a pink, sheer, form-fitting dress that subtly revealed a bit of cleavage. The dress was about ten
centimeters above my knees, and without stockings, a small section of my legs was visible. I was wearing strappy high heels.

Because it was so crowded, I didn't even realize I was being pushed into the middle of the bus.
There and nothing to hold onto. Actually, the situation on the bus was so bad that I didn't even need to hold on. It was so packed, you could barely move.
Luckily, I was surrounded by women, or I would have been mortified. But my good fortune didn't last long. After two stops, the women seemed to have planned to get off together, and several men boarded. Suddenly, I was surrounded by men, all of them jostling me. This situation The feeling of being pressed so tightly against strange men made me instinctively panic. I quickly moved my hands to my chest to protect my only, and most important, area. As the car moved slowly, occasionally braking lightly or sharply, my body rubbed against those of these strange men, making me blush with shame. But I had no choice but to endure it, praying we'd reach our destination quickly. The constant friction made me drift into a daze in this stifling situation, gradually starting to enjoy the unavoidable friction. It had been so long since I'd been caressed by my husband; this long-lost feeling made me hot all over, and my vagina began to secrete fluid. A sudden stop to the brakes, followed by the driver's curses, snapped me back to reality. Recalling the sensations, I was overwhelmed with shame: 'How could I be so shameless? How could I have such thoughts in this situation? And feel such disgusting emotions?' The car started moving again. 'I need to be more focused; I can't have these feelings,' I thought. But as the car moved, the pleasure of the friction surged back to my brain, and I became even wetter. I felt so shameless; how could I have such feelings in this situation? As I stood there bewildered, the bus stopped, and many people got off, which relieved me. Although the bus was more spacious after everyone got off, it was still crowded, but much better than before. At least there wasn't a situation where people were packed together, which made me feel much more at ease. After a while, I suddenly felt a light nudge on my buttocks. My mind went : "Could someone be so bold?" Then I thought, maybe the bus was unstable and the person accidentally bumped into me. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then I remembered that the moment my buttocks were nudged felt like my husband poking me when he was penetrating ; and since my clothes were thin, it felt like he was actually poking me. Thinking about this, I got wet again. Just as I was reminiscing, I felt another nudge from behind, which made me feel my husband's movements , and my lower body became even more wet. While I was lost in thought, there was another thrusting motion from behind, and unlike the previous two times, it wasn't a gentle nudge, but a continuous thrusting motion. The continued thrusting reminded me of my husband's movements behind me during sex, causing me to lose myself . However, I quickly snapped back to reality: 'No, not my husband. How could he be so bold, with so many...'

"How dare he violate me in a place where there are people?" Immediately, filled with shame and anger, I was about to turn around and stop this stranger's
actions when I thought, "There are so many people here. How embarrassing would it be if they knew I was being sexually harassed!"

Thinking this, I gave up the idea of resisting. But not resisting didn't mean I was willing to be violated. I
moved to the side, trying to avoid him, hoping that his actions would make him realize he intended to resist and restrain himself
. However, he seemed certain I wouldn't resist,
and he moved with me.

This made me extremely ashamed and angry, and also left me at a loss. Just when I thought he would continue
, he didn't. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he wouldn't violate me again, I
suddenly felt a hand touching my buttocks.

The sudden situation almost made me scream: "Why is this person so persistent?"
At I felt fear, afraid that this man would do something else. The hand on my buttocks gently
caressed me, its warmth traveling rapidly through my nerve endings to my brain.

Anxious, I twisted my hips, trying to escape the man's intrusion, wanting only to get rid of him.
I never imagined my movements were inadvertently welcoming his caresses. The more I twisted,
the stronger his grip became. Then I heard the man's heavy breathing behind me, which
made me even more uneasy.

Suddenly, his other hand, through the thin fabric, pressed precisely on my clitoris.
The sudden pleasure made me lose all sense of reason. The man seemed to sense my state;
the hand that had been caressing my buttocks moved to my hip bone, and he began thrusting from behind.

I was jolted awake by his thrusting, realizing my predicament. Now, I dared not
resist . I couldn't let anyone see or know my shameful state. I imagined myself
with my eyes half-closed, face flushed, trembling, wanting to resist yet afraid to, my face a mixture of humiliation and
pleasure .

I dared not let anyone see me like this; anyone with eyes could see my coy, hesitant posture
. Even if I resisted, those around me wouldn't sympathize; instead, they would berate me
with words I dared not face, dared not even think of—words I dared not confront.

But I was unwilling. I was unwilling to succumb to pleasure like this; I was unwilling to let
a stranger give me repeated pleasure. Yet, that long-lost pleasure, that
pleasure from not having a man touch my genitals for months, that strange feeling of a stranger's thrusting, even without actual penetration, felt as if it were penetration itself
. What I found even more unbearable was the unusual thrill of being sexually assaulted by a stranger in front of everyone else
.

All these conflicting emotions caused my pleasure to surge like a tidal wave, a feeling that made me feel utterly
ashamed . My husband's voice and smile, his gentle, doting words,
the wedding photo quietly placed on the bedside table in the bedroom—all these things made me feel even more guilty.

A jumble of thoughts churned in my mind like a burst of high-explosive TNT, pushing
my pleasure to its peak. In the throes of orgasm, all other thoughts vanished; I was solely focused on savoring this long-lost
, exhilarating sensation. Deep within my subconscious, the last vestiges of reason still held sway. I desperately tried
to stifle my voice, to resist the trembling that accompanied my orgasm. That last shred of reason told me
I couldn't let anyone see through my act in front of so many people.

After the orgasm, I vaguely felt the stranger rubbing my clitoris through my thin clothing.
The clitoris is extremely sensitive, and I dare not touch it after an orgasm, as it
would hurt before it had fully recovered from the intense engorgement. So, I never touch it after masturbating to orgasm.

Now, the stranger was still rubbing my clitoris, and the pain brought me back to reality. Feelings of
self-reproach , fear, tension, and helplessness overwhelmed me. Deep down, my greatest wish was for my husband
to appear and rescue his wife from the clutches of this stranger. But I knew it was impossible. I couldn't
imagine what my husband's expression would be if he saw me like that—sadness? Disappointment? Angry? I didn't dare think about any of these things.
I was afraid, unwilling, and even more afraid of my husband appearing before me. I only prayed that a kind stranger would
save me, even if he saw my shameful state. This city was so big; there was no possibility of any further interaction.

Perhaps God saw my plight, or perhaps God had forgiven my ordeal. Suddenly,
someone quickly weaved between me and the man. Just then, a stop arrived, and before I could react,
the man led me away from the two buses.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" I heard the man's voice after getting off the bus. The voice sounded
familiar , so I looked up and saw that this man was the one who had helped me at the supermarket. This time
, I was rescued by him in such a shameful situation. These two experiences made me realize that my secret
was no longer a secret to this man.

The feeling of having my secret exposed made me afraid to face this man. Being seen by him in such a shameful
situation made me even more hesitant to look at him; my face burned. Thankfully, when
I looked at him earlier, his eyes didn't hold the mocking expression I feared.

"Oh, it's you! What a coincidence! I got on at the last stop, but I suddenly noticed you being harassed,
so I rashly pulled you off the train. Those damn perverts are really lecherous. I'm sorry I didn't teach that man
a lesson ."

Hearing his words, I felt a little relieved. This man hadn't seen my embarrassing state. I also
sensed his attentiveness; if he had fought back then, everyone would have seen
me, and I would have been utterly humiliated.

But then I suddenly realized that this man must have seen me like that. Nobody's stupid;
he must have noticed! Thinking this, I dared not speak to him anymore and just wanted to escape. At the same time, I
remembered my daughter was still at kindergarten.

"Sir, I don't know how to thank you enough. You've helped me twice, thank you so much!" After saying that,
I bowed deeply to him. "Well, sir, my daughter got out of school halfway through the day, and I have to hurry to pick her up. It wouldn't be good for her
if I was late , so I hope you can understand," I said quickly after bowing.

The man seemed to pause for a moment, then said, "It's alright, ma'am, go pick up your daughter!
Hehe, it's hard for a child to not see their mother. How about I drive you? My car is at the repair
shop up ahead; it just finished repairing today. I'm just picking it up, and I can give you a ride!"

"Thank you, but no need. My daughter's school isn't far; we'll be there in a bit. Don't trouble yourself. Well,
sir, I'll be going now. Thank you so much for your help today." I quickly left without waiting for the
man to say anything more...

For the past twenty-seven years, I've been very traditional and conservative, and my husband has been my only man. Our sex
position has always been the same: man on top. My moans during sex are just a few "ah ah"s when I can't hold back anymore.

My underwear is ordinary; I wouldn't dare wear anything sexy or lingerie, or even sleepwear
, and I'm ashamed to. As for miniskirts, tank tops, or even clothes that aren't revealing but are sexy, I don't own any.
After marrying my husband, I stopped wearing them altogether, afraid that he would think I was promiscuous and stop loving
me.

My husband and I met after graduating from university, and our relationship blossomed from acquaintance to love. On our wedding night, I
gave him my most precious first time.

After marriage, unlike most men who treat their wives like treasures before marriage but become like maids afterward
, my husband continued to pamper me. I felt incredibly happy.

I was lost in this blissful life for two years and gave birth to a beautiful daughter. Because my husband owned a
successful company, he didn't allow me to work, so I became
one of countless housewives. I stayed home taking care of our daughter, doing all the things a housewife should do, and most importantly, I had a loving
husband . I was content.

However, happiness cannot be maintained forever. Two years later, in the autumn, I was still waiting for my husband
after cooking . I waited from six in the evening until nine, and my daughter was finally put to sleep by eight,
but my husband still hadn't returned. I panicked, afraid something had happened to him. I called his cell phone, but it was off; I called his company, but
no one answered. I wondered if he had gone out with friends, but in my past experience, he always invited me when

he went out with friends .
Thinking of this, I quickly changed my clothes and went out to find my husband. I had to go to the company first;
maybe he hadn't heard my call.

With a nervous heart, I went straight to his company. Upon arriving at the building, I used the spare
employee card he had left at home to enter the office building and went straight to his office on the 18th floor. After entering the company with that card, I
noticed a faint light coming from his office. A fleeting moment of joy passed before I rushed to his office.

Strangely, I didn't find him in the office, only his coat on the hanger. I breathed a
sigh of relief, thinking, 'He probably went to the restroom?'

Suddenly, I heard a groan, a sound full of provocation. Without thinking much, I immediately
felt . It was already past 9 pm, and it was quite dark. Finding my husband in the office
eased my anxiety, so my instinctive fear returned. I thought, 'Is there something unclean?'
My heart was pounding wildly. Everyone has curiosity; aren't the protagonists in horror movies like that?
I was no exception; driven by curiosity, I followed the sound.

The sound originated in the break room. Standing three meters away, I hesitated, staring at the door. I had a strong
feeling that something bad was about to happen, and I didn't want to see it. I was terrified, afraid that
my fears would become reality, yet my desire to understand the truth grew stronger.

After a moment's hesitation, I went over and cautiously opened the door a crack. The scene before me left my
mind blank. My husband was standing naked beside the desk, his back to me, making thrusting motions.
His two smooth, white thighs were tightly wrapped around his waist, his toes clenching and
unclenching .

"Ah... um... faster... harder... use... fuck me harder... fuck me to death!"

My husband suddenly stopped, and then the woman pressed her legs down hard on his buttocks, twisting her body
back forth: "Don't stop, come in quickly, I can't take it anymore, hurry up!"

"How do I go in? What are you? What am I going to do inside? Tell me quickly, or I won't do it anymore."

"Put it in! I'm a slut, I'm a slut who needs to be fucked! This little slut wants a big cock to fuck her, wants a big
cock to fuck my pussy!"

With the woman's shouts, she trembled more and more violently. My husband couldn't hold back any longer and thrust in hard,
then quickly pumped in and out...

I didn't rush to stop this lewd battle. I don't remember how I got home. Lying in bed, I cried
silently . I didn't know what to do. I felt like the sky above my head had collapsed. I was afraid that my husband
didn't want me anymore. Feeling helpless, I curled up in the blankets, hugged my legs with my hands, buried my head deeply between my knees, and
trembled all over.

I drifted off to sleep without realizing it, and when I woke up, I found myself in the most familiar, comforting, and safest
embrace. Still half-asleep, I thought about last night's events and felt a
sense of relief, a relaxation I'd never felt before. But suddenly, I realized last night's events weren't a dream. I hugged my husband
tightly , gazing lovingly at him as he slept, afraid he would leave me.

My husband seemed to sense my gaze, opened his eyes, and looked at me with immense tenderness and deep
remorse saying, "I'm sorry, honey! I was working late last night, and my phone died.
I went to the bathroom when you called the company, so I didn't hear it. From now on, if I don't come home at night, don't wait for me, just
go to sleep early! Did you stay up late waiting for me last night? Look, you're still dressed. Did you have a nightmare last night? It's all my
fault." Hearing my husband's gentle, affectionate words, I burst into tears.

"Honey, what's wrong? What's wrong, honey? Were you scared by a nightmare? Don't be afraid, honey, I'm here!"
My husband hugged me tightly, his warm hands stroking my back. I stared intently into his
eyes: "Honey, do you love me?" He paused, then looked at me with unwavering determination and seriousness
: "Yes!" I smiled through my tears. I could see it in his eyes, and
understand , that he loved me, and that love had never changed.

For the next few days, he kept his promise, coming home on time every night, even when he was busy with work.
He made sure to come home to be with me during his work hours.

My constant worry was whether my husband no longer loved me, but after hearing him say "I love you," I let go of
that maddening thought. These past few days, afraid I'd have nightmares, he's come home early every day to hold
me while I sleep.

I'm not stupid, I'm not a foolish woman. I won't cause a scene at his company after discovering his infidelity; I won't
go after that woman, argue with her, or retaliate; and I certainly won't cheat on him just to get revenge
—that would be utterly devastating, ruining my marriage. Even if I didn't cheat, using the first two
methods would still distance him from me, essentially pushing him into someone else's arms. Even if we didn't divorce, it would
create a huge rift between us.

My first thought was, why did my husband cheat? Why would he cheat on me if he loved me so much?
I couldn't understand it. Because I've revolved around my husband for the past two years of our marriage, some of my former close friends
have drifted away. Even though we still cherish our friendship, it's hard to talk about it openly. So, I'm searching for answers
online .

The internet is truly full of wonders. There are countless explanations for my situation, with all sorts of examples
presented . However, most of these examples share a common thread: it's not that my husband doesn't love them anymore. I
think this is the only explanation for the problems between my husband and me.

Due to my upbringing and my introverted personality, I had never experienced sex. Before marriage,
the only had was that a virgin's first time is very painful.

While I'm not a stunning beauty, I'm still quite attractive, with a great figure, so naturally, I had
countless suitors. Because of my introverted nature, I only wanted to
date men I considered my future husband, so I naturally ignored them. Eventually, everyone kept their distance, and I avoided
a lot of trouble. In the words of these men, I'm as pure as a blank sheet of paper, which I think is the main reason my husband
was attracted to me .

As mentioned above, when I have sex with my husband, we use the most basic lying position. He has suggested trying different
positions , but I'm too shy. Traditional values also constantly restrain me, making me afraid that he will
think I'm too promiscuous and stop loving me.

After reading the explanations from netizens, I suddenly realized I'd been wrong all along. It was because I
couldn't attract my husband in bed that his desires remained unfulfilled. Although he wouldn't actively cheat on me because he loves me,
he's so outstanding—handsome, wealthy, and a good person—it's hard for him not to be tempted by other women. This is
exactly what everyone means when they say "men are driven by their lower bodies." Men don't
have the same control over their sexual desires as women, so it's not hard to understand why my husband would cheat.

But I couldn't help feeling angry: "If you have those kinds of thoughts, you can tell me! Am I not obligated
?" But then I felt relieved. My husband had made various requests before, and
I always refused, so he had to rush things, and our sex life felt like homework.

I must change my current state; I must keep my husband firmly tied to me. I
made up my mind to change myself.

I didn't know how to change; I felt lost. How to become more promiscuous? I
didn't know where to start, so I finally decided to search online.

Finally, I summarized all the methods together, and I blushed furiously. Good heavens! This is too
lewd ! Can I accept it? Thinking about how my husband would gradually drift away from me, I didn't care about anything else. For
my husband, I was going all out!

First, I needed to change my clothes, making myself sexy but not lacking in elegance. Then, I needed to prepare several sets of
sexy lingerie, and finally, a few sets of sexy nightgowns. Most importantly, I needed to boldly accept various sexual
positions , and also moan during sex. I needed to let go, not suppress myself, and boldly express my feelings.

I decided to act immediately. I could just buy the clothes at a large department store. I remember being so shy when I went shopping for clothes that I
didn't dare lift my head. But hearing the saleswomen constantly praising how beautiful and sexy I looked, plus the envious looks from other
women , made me happy and more confident in my plan. I
didn't wear these clothes right away. I wanted my husband to be the first to see them, to know that his wife was the most beautiful.

Clothes were easy to buy, but I was just too embarrassed to buy those sexy lingerie and nightgowns.
Just when I didn't know what to do, I saw an advertisement for an online sex toy store, and I was overjoyed
. Seeing all the lingerie and pajamas in the store, imagining my husband's expression when he saw me wearing them...
oh take it anymore, it was too embarrassing.

Of course, I was keeping all of this a secret from my husband; I wanted to surprise him, hehe!

Most importantly, I wanted to learn how to be lewd, so I downloaded a lot of pornographic movies from the website, but
I never dared to watch them until the very day I was going to surprise him.

That day, I sent the children to their grandmother's house, and when I got home, I changed into the sexy
lingerie , and over it, a black sexy evening dress I had specially prepared for the day. The thin, form-fitting fabric tightly
accentuated my stunning figure.

A strapless dress, 15 centimeters above the knee, revealed a sliver of my breasts, showcasing a deep
cleavage. Wearing flesh-colored pantyhose, my long, straight, and shapely legs became even more alluring.
Black high heels with leggings further accentuated my curvaceous figure, and the black evening
gown made my smooth, flawless skin appear even more flawless.

Seeing myself in the mirror, I realized how sexy and beautiful I was. Imagining
my husband's expression upon seeing me, I blushed.

I turned off the main living room light and turned on the wall lamps, creating a dim and mysterious atmosphere. I set up a
Western-style dining table in the center of the room, lit candles, placed a bottle of red wine, and played some suggestive music from the DVD player.
After doing all this, I called my husband, telling him to come home early; a surprise awaited him.

Excited, I sat on the sofa waiting for my husband. Suddenly, I felt a pang of anxiety, a little uneasy:
Would my husband be happy to see me like this for him? Would he think his wife was too promiscuous?
I started having all sorts of wild thoughts, both expectant and fearful.

Just as I was feeling anxious, the doorbell rang, startling me. Then, filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation,
I rushed to open the door for my husband.

When the door opened, I took a few steps back. My head was down, my hands fidgeting nervously. I had
never , and even in front of my husband, I was incredibly shy.

When my husband came in and saw me, his expression shifted from stunned silence to surprise, then delight, and finally, infatuation.
He stared intently at me, his gaze sweeping over me from head to toe. I nervously stole glances at him, and seeing
that infatuated look in his eyes, I felt relieved. I knew I had succeeded. He had shown that same look when he
first saw me, but I felt he was even more infatuated now.

A few minutes later, my husband excitedly rushed over, hugged me, and stroked my long hair, looking at me with adoration,
saying, "Wife, you're so beautiful!"

I hugged him tightly, looking at him shyly, and asked, "Really?"

"Yes, you're the most beautiful person in the world!"

I happily took his hand, and we walked to the dining table to the accompaniment of beautiful music. Under the candlelight, we chatted
about , just like when we were dating, feeling incredibly happy.

During our conversation, my husband's eyes kept darting over me, making me incredibly embarrassed.
It was the first time I'd ever dressed like this in front of him. His gaze grew increasingly intense, just like
it had

"My beautiful wife, may I have this dance?" he asked, like a gentleman.

As he stood up, I noticed a bulge in his pants; he was hard. I
felt . All women feel the same way—it's a source of pride to attract the one you love.
At the same time, I remembered our first time together, my heart pounding, my face burning
red.

We danced together, and his hands gradually became more restless, moving from my waist to my back, then to
my buttocks , gently caressing me.

"Wife, you look so sexy today."

"No, I want to be your sexy little kitten every day!" I blurted out, immediately regretting it
. How could I have said that?

As I finished speaking, my husband excitedly lowered his head and kissed me. His tongue skillfully
sucked on my mouth, and I tried my best to respond to him. His movements also began, and with his touch, I
slowly began to feel something.

We couldn't wait to walk towards the bedroom, making love as we went. My husband gently placed me on the bed, kissing my forehead,
eyes , nose, mouth, and ears. As he kissed me, he used his hands to unbutton my clothes, and I felt myself
getting wetter and wetter.

After stripping me down to my underwear, my husband stared at me intently, his eyes burning with a fierce
fire. Under his gaze, I turned my head away, unable to look at him. My black lace bra was slightly transparent, and I could
vaguely see my nipples. My black panties were semi-transparent at the genitals, and I could vaguely
see my pubic hair.

I was wearing sexy lingerie! This was my first time, and I trembled all over, completely
at a loss , fidgeting and twisting. I wanted to secretly peek at my husband's reaction, but I didn't dare to look. Wearing sexy lingerie and
feeling my husband's gaze, I unconsciously became hot all over, and my lower body became even wetter. This feeling made me
even more ashamed.

"Wife, you're so sexy, I can't take it!" my husband said to me, trembling. Then I
heard the rustling sound of him taking off his clothes, and then he pounced on me like a wolf, in just
a few seconds.

My husband looked at me and said, "Wife, thank you! I love you so much." Hearing my husband's warm
words, I kissed him passionately for the first time in my life.

After kissing for a while, my husband slowly kissed my breasts, and a tingling sensation slowly washed over me. My husband
took off my bra and suddenly sucked on my nipple. The sudden stimulation made me cry
out "Ah!" My husband sucked even harder, and waves of pleasure numbed my nerves, my mind went
blank , and I enjoyed the pleasure that instantly spread from my nipple throughout my body.

I don't know when, but my husband had already taken off my underwear. Coming to my senses
, I watched as he kissed my genitals. Just before he reached them, he looked at me and asked, "Is it okay?" I nodded shyly
. My husband excitedly lowered his head and kissed my genitals. In the past, I
never let , but for the sake of his life, I didn't care anymore.

An unprecedented pleasure surged through my clitoris, making me moan uncontrollably. Seeing my
reaction, my husband licked even more vigorously. Suddenly, I felt something warm and moist slide into my vagina.
The feeling inside was strange, but strangely pleasurable.

At this point, I couldn't take it anymore. I desperately wanted my husband's large penis inside me, but my past
personality made me ashamed to ask him. But this made me incredibly uncomfortable, and I could only desperately twist my body to resist the
intense urge to be penetrated.

My husband seemed to sense my impatience and prepared to penetrate me. When I felt the head of his penis touch the entrance
, my sensations intensified, like having something I desperately wanted to eat right in front of my mouth but couldn't taste
. It was agonizing, and I couldn't help but call out to him, "Husband, hurry! Hurry! Put it in!
Faster, I can't take it anymore!"

Encouraged, he thrust in all at once. "Ah..." I felt an instant sense of
relief , and my empty vagina filled with his penetration. The pleasurable sensation made
me let out a long sigh.

Then came his rapid thrusting, the intense
pleasure I didn't suppress my feelings as I usually did; instead, I released them freely.

"Mmm...mmm...mmm...ah..." My cries excited him even more; this was something his
wife had never cried out like during sex. This made him even more aroused, and his thrusts quickened.

At this moment, as my husband increased the speed of his thrusting, the pleasure intensified, and my cries became more rapid:
"Ah...ah...ah...ah..." With such rapid thrusting, my orgasm was fast approaching.

After more than forty thrusts, the intense pleasure overwhelmed me, and my cries changed from rapid
to heart-wrenching screams.

Before my orgasm had completely subsided, my husband also reached his climax, ejaculating hot...
His semen filled my uterus, sending waves of lingering orgasm crashing over me, my body
trembling violently.

After the climax, my husband held me in his arms, gently comforting me. At that moment, I realized
how foolish I had been. I realized that letting go of myself made sex with my husband so pleasurable. I thought, "If only I had let go sooner
."

Suddenly, I remembered something: I'd forgotten to wear my sexy nightgown. Hehe, no problem, I'll
wear it tomorrow night, take it slow! Haha!

Since that night, my husband and I have experienced a complete transformation in our sex life. My husband even
bought me sexy lingerie and nightgowns, which I accepted without hesitation. With the help of porn, my husband and I tried various
sex positions from the films. Although I feel quite daring now, I still
feel , but for my husband, I'm willing to give everything.

A year has passed in the blink of an eye, and during this time I've learned a lot. To maintain my
figure, I spend time exercising every day. Because I need to take care of my child, I've had to buy some
exercise equipment to practice at home. I've seen many people online say that yoga is
a very effective exercise for maintaining flexibility, and many aspects of sex require a woman to be quite flexible.
Therefore, I started learning yoga online and practice every day.

However, I also need to take care of my smooth, fair, and silky skin, but my child is still young, and I have to look after her.
Fortunately, I'm only 28 years old, and my skin is still so good, so I think I can wait until my child is older before starting
.

Luckily, this wish will come true in the next few days. A while ago, my husband and I discussed
whether we should send our three-year-old child to kindergarten. I was adamant about it, but my husband said, "I'm
reluctant too, but a child's education needs to start early. Although we're both well-educated and knowledgeable,
we're not teachers. Besides, kindergarten will allow
her to be with many other children, making her happier, helping her develop social skills, and fostering independence.
She won't grow up to be a spoiled, arrogant girl who only knows how to rely on her parents."

My husband's words made me think for several days. For my child's sake, for her future, I had no choice but to agree.
No parent wants their young child to be neglected; every parent
hopes their child will succeed. I made up my mind to send our child to kindergarten.

After several days of searching, my husband and I found a well-regarded kindergarten in the city. We didn't
enroll her in the full-day program because we didn't want her to lack parental love. She spends her days with her friends and teachers,
and her evenings with her parents—a perfect solution, even though it's a bit far from our home. However, I'm home all day and
don't have much to do, so picking her up won't be a hassle.

Today is her sixth day at kindergarten. I remember the first day, she absolutely refused to go,
crying and begging for her mom and dad. I couldn't bear to see her like that, but for her sake, I
steeled myself and ignored her. Unexpectedly, when I picked her up in the evening, she asked me reluctantly
when she would go back to kindergarten. It made my heart ache, and I was both amused and touched.

Today, I wore the outfit my husband bought me yesterday: a V-neck blazer, very form-fitting,
and the ultra-thin, soft fabric perfectly accentuated my upper body.
The skirt, 20 centimeters above the knee, was the same fabric as the blazer, clinging tightly to me and highlighting my full, rounded hips
. Because the outfit was so thin, I only wore a bikini-style lace bra,
barely , and sexy thongs. I didn't wear stockings, but rather pink high heels.

When my husband saw me in this outfit, he was practically drooling. If I hadn't stubbornly refused
, and it was time for work, he would have definitely taken advantage of me on the spot.

When it was time to leave, I discovered my car was malfunctioning and wouldn't start. My husband offered to drive me, but I
knew he was very busy with a big project, so I refused, telling him a taxi
would be fine. Seeing my insistence, he had no choice but to give up.

After dropping my child off at school, I went back to the street to hail a taxi home, but it was rush
hour. Taxis were hard to find; I finally managed to get one, but someone else snatched it. I was furious
and decided to force my way into it the next time.

Persistence paid off, and I finally managed to grab one, shoving my way in without even
seeing the driver. I gave my neighborhood number and closed my eyes, pretending to sleep. Last night, my husband and I had a real battle
, going to bed very late. This morning, I had to prepare breakfast for them, which I never skimped on. Breakfast is important, after
all .

I vaguely felt waves of pleasure coming from my vagina and let out a soft moan. My husband is so naughty;
he doesn't even leave me alone in the morning. Didn't I satisfy him last night? His tongue was exploring inside me,
sending waves of pleasure through me. Why has his tongue technique changed? Hehe, but it feels so good.

"Mmm...mmm...mmm..." So good! Oh! Why is my husband's tongue so big? And
so long, the stimulation is even more intense. Something's not right! How could this be?

Suddenly I felt dizzy. I think I was just dropping the kids off, how could this be? Was I dreaming again?
I was startled by this thought! No, no, that wasn't a dream. I took a taxi after dropping the kids off! Then I
pretended to sleep, and then this happened.

I suddenly woke up. This wasn't a dream, it was real! What was happening? A deep fear enveloped
me. At this moment, the pleasure in my lower body made me tremble slightly. A sliver of consciousness told me that someone wanted me, or was
raping me! I struggled violently, but I felt that the space was too small. It felt like I was in the back seat of a car.
From this feeling, I was in the very center of the back seat, and he was in the empty seat between the driver and passenger seats.

What made me even more upset was that the man who was violating me had his head buried between my legs, and his two large hands were tightly gripping
my buttocks. My legs were no threat to him at all. My hands were also tied behind my back, making it impossible for me to use my upper body for
leverage, and my struggles were futile. I tried to open my eyes to see my surroundings, but my eyes
were also bound with a piece of cloth of some unknown material, so I couldn't see anything at all.

What made me even more disoriented was that my clothes were gone. A feeling of helplessness rose from the bottom of my heart. I couldn't
let him succeed. I twisted my body violently, trying to stop his mouth from touching my genitals, but the more I resisted,
the stronger he became, holding my buttocks tightly. That hateful tongue rapidly stimulated my vagina, a
strange pleasure stimulating my brain.

How could I feel this? I was being violated by someone who wasn't my husband! I don't want this, I don't want
this feeling! "Help! Someone save me! Husband, save me! Rape! Someone save me...
Ugh..." I cried desperately. But my cries didn't get any kind people to hear; instead
, they stimulated the violator even more. He stimulated me even more, causing me to
moan occasionally amidst my cries.

My strength was slowly fading. He climbed on top of me, kissing my breasts. I was desperate!
"Husband, where are you? Your wife is kissing your body, which belongs only to you! Husband, where are you? Come
and save me! Hurry, your wife is about to lose her virginity! Husband..."

Thinking of my husband's gentle words, his loving eyes, and his warm embrace,
I felt deep regret. I regretted not letting him take our daughter to school this morning. I hated myself for being so beautiful,
hated myself for dressing so sexily, and hated the man now on top of me, violating me. I
didn't want my husband's body to be taken by someone else.

I opened my mouth, cursing this shameless man, but the more I cursed, the more aroused he became. I couldn't help but despair
. There was definitely no one around, otherwise he wouldn't be violating me here.

I instinctively cried, a woman's weakness appearing in my heart. "Please, let me go! I have a husband
! I can't betray my husband! Please, please, let me go!" I cried and begged this
man.

I didn't hear the voice I most wanted to hear: "I'm sorry, I'll let you go. So you do have a husband
. " I didn't hear him say a word; he just silently enjoyed my body, which I was so proud of, probably
afraid that I would recognize him if I made a sound.

In this unfamiliar environment, unable to see, my body bound, even the strength to resist was
exhausted . 'Will he hurt me? What if he hurts me? I can't let him hurt me, my husband, the children
need me. I can't…' I gave up resisting, searching for all sorts of excuses for myself.

I don't know when, but he kissed my vulva again, the pleasure from my vulva shooting straight to my brain. I felt
ashamed of my reaction, the feeling from when I woke up flooding my mind again. I felt deeply guilty; why had my body become
so sensitive? I cried for the onslaught of pleasure.

Slowly, for some reason, I gradually became immersed in pleasure, my body growing hotter and hotter, a sliver of
clarity bringing me back to my senses. I can't have these feelings; how could I betray my husband? This damned body.
A strong sense of shame made me desperately resist this body that betrayed me, betrayed my husband. The more I resisted, the stronger the pleasure
became . I enjoyed the emptiness spreading through me,
the pleasure of my sensitive body being played with by the man, yet this feeling also brought a strong sense of shame and deep self-reproach.

Perhaps the man couldn't resist, or perhaps he realized I was aroused, he
hastily stripped off his clothes, spread my legs, and pressed his glans against my vaginal opening.

I felt that penis, different from my husband's, pressing against my vaginal opening, a
feeling of utter helplessness washing over me. It's over, I'm going to be penetrated by this man! At that moment, the deep emptiness
magnified several times over; I desperately wanted that penis to fill me, to ease the itching in my vagina.

"Ah..." The penis penetrated my vagina, making me let out a long sigh. Then came the frenzied
thrusting , leaving me no time to feel its shape, length, or thickness, no time to think.

"Ah...ah...ah...ah..." The powerful and rapid thrusting made me forget my
surroundings , forget that the man on top of me was a stranger, forget that I was being raped, and I was simply
enjoying it.

"Ah...husband, I'm coming, I'm going to climax...ah...faster! Faster!" Just before I reached
my climax , I heard my own moans and realized that I wasn't with my husband. I
was being penetrated by a stranger, a man whose face I didn't even know. I
had betrayed my husband, moaning and groaning under another man, about
to The intense shame made me reach an unprecedentedly intense climax in the next moment.

The intense climax made my mouth wide open, unable to make a sound, my whole body tense, and my body trembling violently.
Under my powerful climax, the man finally couldn't hold back, and his semen gushed out. The hot semen hit
deep inside my body, making my climax even more difficult to calm down.

I don't know when I woke up from the afterglow of my climax. I felt someone haphazardly
dressing , constantly touching and rubbing my body. I was weak and powerless, unable
to stop him.

After I was dressed, he pushed me out of the car. I was outside
the wall . This road was a fast lane, not a commercial area, so there were few pedestrians. Removing the blindfold
, my mind was blank; I just stared blankly at everything that had happened. After a while, only one thought echoed in my mind: 'Go home,
go home.' I staggered home.

When I got home, I opened the door and walked towards the bedroom, looking at the sofa, the TV, the walls, and
the plants on the flower stand by the window on the left side of the living room. I walked blankly into the bedroom, and for a moment, I saw my
husband 's wedding photo. My husband was looking at me tenderly, and I looked back at him with happiness. Staring intently at the
photograph , I slowly slumped down, tears streaming down my face and onto the floor…

I wept, weeping for my fate, for the filth of my body, for my
promiscuity , for betraying my husband.

I rushed into the bathroom like a madwoman, violently stripping off my clothes, turning the shower on full pressure, and
scrubbing myself vigorously, trying to cleanse my unclean body. My skin turned
bright red, and a sharp pain made me think of death; perhaps death would bring relief.

I staggered towards the kitchen, bumping into a small cabinet, and fell to the floor. The things on the cabinet…
Xi Ye fell down with a "crash." My attention was drawn to a photo frame that had fallen in front of me. The photo showed my daughter's
innocent smile as we played, and my husband's contented and tender eyes watching us frolic
.

'I can't die. My daughter is so young, and she needs her mother so much right now. Losing
her mother at such a young age will be so painful for her. I love my husband so much, I don't want to leave him. He loves me so much, and
if I leave, he will be in so much pain. I don't want to see him like that. He's so carefree, he needs my care.
I can't die, I absolutely can't die.'

'But what can I do if I don't die? I'm so ashamed, reaching that kind of orgasm while being raped
. I'm a shameless woman. My husband said he wanted me to be promiscuous, only promiscuous with him. But
I… if my husband knew, he would never love me again, he would never want me. What should I do? Right, my husband doesn't know
yet ! How can he know if I don't tell him? I can't tell him, I can't let him know!' "

It was like finding a giant straw in the water; my sadness subsided a bit, and I calmed
down . I tidied up the small cabinet, went back to the bathroom, and thoroughly washed my vagina. Even though it was my safe period,
I still needed to be careful not to get pregnant. I

dried myself off, put on a nightgown, lay face down on the bed, and buried my head deep in the pillow. I thought about
the question I least wanted to recall: why did I have an orgasm in that environment? I suddenly recalled
my experiences with my husband from that night until now. Was I really being promiscuous for him? Since that orgasm,
hadn't I been thinking about that intoxicating, blissful feeling every day?

I had completely changed all my habits, becoming my husband's slut. Thinking about
the workouts I did, wasn't it all to be able to withstand intense sex, to enjoy it longer? And
the yoga I practiced, wasn't it all for those positions in sex? And the skincare I'd always
wanted to do, wasn't it all to protect my skin, so that men would be aroused by me?"

Thinking back to when I was violated today, didn't I also have a faint sense of anticipation deep down? Couldn't my husband
satisfy me? No, that doesn't make sense. My husband's penis isn't small, about 16 or 17 centimeters long, and he lasts a long time
. Doesn't he always bring me to multiple orgasms? But why was I so wanton today? Am I really a slut
? And not satisfied with just my husband? What's wrong with me?

I'm so scared. I'm scared that I really am a slut. I'm scared of that budding desire growing inside me.
I'm scared of being condemned by everyone, and even more scared that my husband will abandon me, leave me. That
would be worse .

I can't let that happen. I have to suppress that budding desire and not let it grow. Suddenly,
I thought of that stranger today, whose face I don't even know, who gave me that intense orgasm.
Thinking about the thrill of rape mixed with the feeling of adultery, without realizing it, my vagina was soaking wet.

I dared not think any further, afraid I would utterly succumb. I fiercely suppressed my feelings, a deep
sense of self-reproach swirling within me…
Three months passed swiftly, the winter nights cold and devoid of warmth. I stared at the
beautiful starry sky, feeling as if every star was blinking and mocking me, mocking my inability to
recover from the ordeal of sending my child to school, mocking how I couldn't help but recall that
exhilarating ; mocking how the strange
stimulation I felt then aroused me, making my orgasms with my husband far more
intense . For this, I felt a deep sense of guilt towards my husband and shame for my shameless behavior.

My husband noticed my abnormality, but he interpreted it as new progress in my development, which
excited him and gave him a sense of accomplishment. Hearing his words, I felt utterly ashamed, yet also somewhat relieved
.

My husband runs a software company, and we've settled in a provincial capital city in central China, near the western part of the country.
Through his abilities and keen business acumen, he's built a thriving company. However, the current city's economic
prospects , development potential, and economic exchange opportunities no longer meet the company's needs. Therefore, he wants to
expand the company to a more economically developed city in the southeast coastal region.

This is a major decision, so he's personally overseeing the process. Since
the primary marketing channel for software companies is online, the location doesn't really matter. The reason he sees
so many opportunities in the economic and technological exchange of the southeast coast is appealing, but more importantly, the talent pool there is the most
crucial factor.

However, there are many companies of my husband's size in those developed cities,
making the competition for talent extremely fierce. Therefore, my husband will be staying in that city for a considerable period, at least one
to two years. Although I'll miss him, men's greatest joy lies in their careers, and as his
wife, I should stand firmly on his side. So, I wholeheartedly support him.

Although I miss my husband, the biggest problem is causing me great distress and resentment.
When he's here, I can satisfy my sexual desires, but now that he's gone, what am I supposed to do?

Before that incident, I always thought I was doing it for my husband, so I dressed sexily to
please . After that experience, I realized that it was precisely because of my sexual desire that I dressed up every day.
Now I feel my sex drive is stronger than before; I want to make love with my husband every day. Sometimes when he's busy and
can't be with me, I feel terribly miserable. Luckily, he's very sexually capable, otherwise I'm really worried I
won't . But my husband is leaving soon. I hugged him tightly and sighed deeply.

"Ah...it's so itchy...it's so itchy down there...what should I do...I can't take it anymore..." I
tossed and turned to sleep. My lower body was numb and itchy, and I felt a little empty, which made me very uncomfortable.

My husband has been gone for half a month. The first few days were okay, but these past few days, the desire has been agonizing.
The thought of my husband's penis deeply penetrating my vagina, the fullness, the pleasurable sensation of his shaft rubbing against my tender flesh, made me increasingly
agitated . My hand unconsciously reached down to my genitals, and the moment it touched my clitoris, a wave of pleasure surged through my brain.
Enjoying this long-awaited stimulation, my hand moved faster and faster.

I had never masturbated before; I felt it was a very bad thing, believing it was only for lewd people.
Only men masturbate. Although I turned myself into a slut for my husband, it was only for him!
I don't think it's lewdness; it's a normal thing, as long as it's not for outsiders.

With the help of my hand, I reached that long-awaited orgasm. After enjoying that
feeling , I came to my senses.

Coming to my senses, I felt guilty, so ashamed. How could I do such a thing?
Suddenly , I thought of that night again, of the pleasure I didn't want, of that unusual orgasm.
Thinking about masturbation, which I've always considered so vulgar, and then of my husband's voice and smile, I felt even more deeply guilty, unable to forgive
myself . Thinking of this, I silently shed tears…

For the past few nights, I've resisted the masturbation that makes me feel guilty. I don't want to do that vulgar thing anymore,
but the tingling in my genitals and the pleasurable sensation of my fingers touching my clitoris clashing violently with my deep
guilt , making me even more miserable.

Another night like this, I can't bear this unbearable feeling anymore; I want to indulge myself. 'Just this
once , I really can't take it anymore, just once is enough. I've already done it once, so I'm not afraid
to do it again, and this is the last time!' Thinking this, I put my hand
on , and the pleasurable feeling washed over me once more. As time went on, I increased
the speed of my rubbing, and with the increased speed, an orgasm followed.

After the orgasm, I blamed myself again. I felt so lewd. Am I really that kind
of woman? Thinking of this, tears streamed down my face again…

"I'm so annoyed lately, so annoyed, so annoyed…" Listening to this song that I'd been wanting to hear the most lately, I
found things to do to distract myself from my annoyance until I was so sleepy
that immediately.

Now, I'm listening to music while browsing websites about women. On a forum, I saw
the word "masturbation," which I least wanted to see, and I quickly closed it. But out of curiosity, I wanted to know other people
's opinions on masturbation, so driven by curiosity, I opened the webpage.

On the web, I saw that masturbation, also known as self-pleasure, is a normal physiological behavior that
can even treat some diseases and has good physiological health benefits. Seeing this information, I couldn't believe it;
it felt absurd. How could such a vulgar thing be considered normal? But desperate to find a solution, I
started searching for related content on search engines.

On various websites, I found content that delighted me, especially explanations on professional
medical websites, even from expert-level discussions of masturbation. This information excited me
immensely; my previous thoughts were wrong, and my behavior wasn't vulgar. Then I thought, I
can take care of it myself when my husband isn't around, so I don't feel so unbearably excited.

Although I saw information that gave me sufficient reason to masturbate, I still couldn't let go of myself; I still
felt vulgar because some of the claims stated that masturbation is acceptable when sexual desire is overwhelming,
generally once or twice a week, which, more broadly speaking, is also the frequency of sexual intercourse for most people once or twice a week. Looking back
on myself, wanting it every day and feeling terribly uncomfortable if I didn't have it for even a day was definitely not normal. This made
me feel ashamed, so I still couldn't let go.

During a phone call with my husband, I nervously told him about my masturbation. To my
surprise, he wasn't angry; instead, he was very supportive and even said
something that made me incredibly embarrassed. He said, "Do you want it? Do you really want me to come home and make love to you?"
Recalling that conversation with him brought back vivid images, making
me incredibly aroused and filled me with shame.

With my husband's support, I started masturbating more confidently in the following days, and even learned many masturbation techniques online
. Using the showerhead to stimulate the clitoris was indeed much more effective than stimulating it with my hand. However,
one time when I was enjoying it, in order to achieve even greater pleasure, my brain involuntarily increased the water pressure, causing
my clitoris excruciating pain. So I stopped using it, afraid of injuring it in a moment of loss of control.

I also learned to rub my genitals with a pillow between my legs, a technique I really enjoyed. It allowed me to fantasize about
my husband caressing me with his penis between my legs, a feeling that excited me greatly. I
also learned to use my hands to stroke my breasts to increase pleasure.

I used various masturbation methods found online to satisfy myself. I didn't engage in vaginal stimulation;
I felt that such a clean place shouldn't be touched by my hands or other foreign objects, so I didn't do that.

The first few days were okay, but the itching and emptiness inside my vagina were much
worse than when I wasn't masturbating. I struggled painfully between the itching, emptiness, and the masturbation that offered me relief; this uncomfortable
feeling was driving me crazy.

'Sigh! So what if my hands are dirty! As long as my penis can go in, what else matters?' Thinking this, I
slowly inserted my index finger into my vagina. The tender flesh felt like it was being penetrated by a penis. Although it didn't have
the full stimulation of my husband's penis, and it couldn't fully stimulate the tender flesh inside,
I still felt very satisfied after such a long period of abstinence.

My hands rubbed rapidly back and forth, left and right, while my free hands caressed my breasts, seeking greater stimulation for my
vagina . As the pleasure intensified, orgasm was approaching.

In that moment nearing climax, I unconsciously recalled the intense pleasure that stranger had given me.
That pleasure was truly unbearable. A sliver of reason in my mind told me I shouldn't think about
these things , I shouldn't betray my husband.

'I can't think about it, I can't think about that shameful pleasure, I can't think about it.' I tried to tell
myself not to think about it, but the more I suppressed myself, the more I forced myself, the more intense pleasure overwhelmed me when I thought of my husband,
making it difficult for me to recover from that long-lost ecstasy.

'How could I be so shameless!' I cursed myself fiercely, hating myself for being as
shameless as other women. I wanted to unleash a torrent of self-reproach to calm myself down, but influenced by my parents since childhood
, I only knew, and dared to say, "You big bad guy, you're not a good person," and nothing else.
There were words I wanted to say, but I couldn't bring myself to say them. "Shameless" was something I'd only heard in TV dramas. "
Rogue another word, but I didn't consider myself a rogue. I was
more like those two words I dared not delve into, dared not explore, and dared not utter.

Filled with intense hatred, I slapped myself hard again, feeling a sense of relief. I
slapped myself several more times. But right now, what I wanted most was for my husband to hit me, to punish my infidelity. Perhaps only
a severe beating from him could bring me peace of mind. But this thought remained just a fleeting thought.
I dared not tell my husband. Perhaps a beating would bring me peace of mind, but my beloved husband and my beloved family
would crumble, and I didn't want that to happen.

Touching my swollen face, I felt much better, and fell asleep, exhausted from the orgasm and filled with deep
self-reproach .

When I woke up the next morning, seeing my slightly swollen face, a wave of sadness
lingered in my heart. Because I didn't sleep well last night, I woke up a little late. After hurriedly getting ready to pack
my daughter things for the day, making breakfast, and hastily grabbing a change of clothes, I took her out the door.

After dropping her off at school, I drove to a large supermarket I frequent to buy some household supplies
for .

After browsing around the supermarket, my shopping cart was already full. Thinking that we were almost out of oil, I
headed towards the rice, flour, and cooking oil section. Halfway there, I suddenly felt someone following me, getting closer and closer.
'Could I be a pervert?' I quickened my pace, looking around for a more crowded area.

To my horror, the man also quickened his pace. Growing increasingly frightened, I was about to shout when I heard
the man urgently say, 'Madam, don't be afraid, I mean no harm, please wait a moment.'
Hearing his words, I felt that the man seemed harmless, and in such a crowded place, he wouldn't dare to do
anything inappropriate.

I stopped and turned around to see a man in his thirties rushing towards me anxiously. "
Don't get too close! There are a lot of people here, don't go too far!" I quickly
warned him as he got closer.

Seeing my nervousness and hearing my warning, the man stopped at
a safe said gently, "Madam, I'm sorry to bother you so rudely. I just
noticed a beautiful rose on the back of your pants. I think
my wife would be very happy if I could give it to her."

Hearing this, I was stunned. My pants were pure white, without any
embellishments , a simple pair of tight-fitting pants that perfectly showcased my lower body curves. But
how could there be a flower on such white pants, from waistband to hem? And a red rose

at that! A sudden realization startled me, and I quickly touched my backside, feeling something damp. Understanding
what happened, my face burned like boiling water, turning a deep red. It turned out that I
had been feeling , so I had been wearing sanitary pads and avoiding wearing
light-colored pants like white or those with subtle stains. I hadn't slept well last night and woken up late this morning, rushing to prepare my daughter's breakfast and
take her to school, so I completely forgot about this.

Realizing what had happened, I was too ashamed to look at the man, and I felt embarrassed
for mistaking his kindness for a pervert. I was incredibly grateful to this stranger; without him, I don't know
how much more humiliating it would have been. The thought of this man seeing
me in such an embarrassing situation made me even more hesitant to look at him.

"Ma'am, don't
worry I lowered my head and quickly walked to the cashier, feeling the stranger carefully
protecting me from others seeing my predicament. I silently thanked him,
feeling guilty for mistaking him for a pervert and for rudely scolding him.

After finishing at the checkout, my hands were full of heavy bags. "Let me help you with
some! These two big bags, you can carry one in each hand, it'll protect you." Hearing the man's words,
I didn't hesitate, handed him my things, and walked out of the supermarket first, with him following behind to protect me. I thought to myself,
this man is such a thoughtful person, his wife must be very happy.

When we reached my car, he helped me put my things in, and only then did I take a closer look at him.
He was in his thirties, about 178 cm tall, with neat, short hair, neither too thin nor too fat, wearing a
casual outfit. Although he wasn't handsome, he gave off a very honest feeling.

"Thank you so much, I don't know how embarrassing it would have been if it weren't for you." Just as I was looking him over
, he was also helping me load my things into the car, and I quickly thanked him.

"It's nothing, just a small favor, don't be so polite." He still
spoke , and with his clean smile, I trusted him even more.

"How could I? You must thank me! Let me buy you a coffee!"

"Thank you, ma'am. I'm sorry, I have something to attend to. Maybe we'll meet again sometime
. You're busy, I should go now."

Hearing his words, I didn't press him to stay and thank him further, and at the same time, I felt a slight sense of relief.
I felt this man was quite nice; other men would definitely have tried to befriend me.
Considering his politeness, his thoughtfulness in helping, and his gentle manner, I
suddenly thought his wife must be very happy to have such a husband!

After seeing the man off, I got into my car and drove home…
"What are you doing, honey? Thinking about me?"

"Yes, I'm thinking about you so much I can't stand it."

"Hehe! What can't you stand? I don't know!" "Oh

, that's not what I meant. I mean, I miss you so much I'm sad."
I said hastily, pretending to be angry.

"Why are you angry, honey? I know you're thinking about me. What are you thinking about?" my husband said mischievously on the other end of
the phone .

"How could you be so mean? If you say that again, I won't talk to you anymore." I knew my husband had teased me, so I said in a spoiled and angry
tone.

"Hehe, honey, don't be angry. It's all my fault for not being there for you. It's all my fault for
not being there ." My husband said to me in that same mischievous tone.

"You still dare to say that? If you say it again, I'll really ignore you." Hearing my husband's teasing words, I
was already A tingling, empty feeling was gently tormenting my nerves. I really wanted to touch my genitals,
but I was too ashamed to do so while talking to my husband on the phone.

"Honey, when can you come back? I miss you so much."

"Not now. It's the time of year now, I can't come back!"

"Then when will you be done with your work?" Hearing my husband's words, I felt very frustrated. I wanted to eat
the food I cooked for him, I wanted to see him every day, I wanted his adoring eyes to look at me, I wanted his
warm hands to caress me, I wanted him to come right now to satisfy my increasingly intense sexual desire.

Thinking of this, and the thought that my husband might not be able to come back, the resentment and shame of not being able to confide my desires to him
made me burst into tears.

"Wife, wife, what's wrong? It's all my fault. I'll definitely come back to be with
you as soon as I'm done with this busy period. Wife, don't cry, it breaks my heart to see you cry like this."

Hearing my husband's concern for me, I felt much more at ease. Suddenly, I realized I shouldn't have made him
worry . He's so busy right now, and if I act like this, he won't be able to concentrate on his work.

I tried to control my emotions and told him with a hint of joy that I must come back as soon as I'm done,
or I wouldn't talk to him. My husband said he definitely wouldn't dare disappoint his wife and would come back as soon as he was done.

After chatting with my husband for a while, I hung up the phone and stared blankly at my husband in our wedding photo. Ever since
I told my husband about my masturbation, he
's been teasing me intentionally or unintentionally when we talk on the phone, making me masturbate intensely every time we finish a call.

"That jerk of a husband!" I reached down to my genitals again...

Time, like when you're enjoying an orgasm, always feels so short and disappears so quickly.

Another month has passed in the blink of an eye, and the weather is already very hot, just like my restless mood. These past few days, masturbation
hasn't been as satisfying as it used to be, leaving me feeling stuck and uncomfortable. Not doing it, however,
is unbearable and incredibly frustrating.

The more frustrated I am, the more problems arise. This afternoon, while picking up my daughter, the car stalled for no apparent reason. I
discovered it was out of gas. This situation filled me with anger and self-blame. With school about to let out , calling a repair shop and waiting for them to come was too late. I couldn't let my daughter wait; it would be bad for her mental and emotional well-being. I decided to leave the car there temporarily and go pick her up. I won't take a taxi; what happened made me very unsafe in them, so I opted for the bus. With so many people on the bus, no one would dare do anything on it. After making up my mind, I walked to several stops, but none of them had a bus route . This situation made me very anxious. Finally, I found a suitable stop. Perhaps it was rush hour, but when I entered the stop, I saw quite a few people waiting for the bus. I didn't want to squeeze onto the bus with so many people, after Butall picking up my daughter was urgent, so I boarded without hesitation when the bus arrived. Today I was wearing a pink, sheer, form-fitting dress that subtly revealed a bit of cleavage. The hemline was about ten centimeters above my knees, and without stockings, a small section of my legs was visible. I was wearing strappy high heels. Because there were so many people, I didn't even realize I was being pushed to the middle of the bus. There and nothing to hold onto. Actually, the situation on the bus was so bad that you didn't even need to hold on ; it was so crowded that even moving was difficult. Luckily, I was surrounded by women, otherwise I would have been mortified. But my good fortune didn't last long. After two stops, the women seemed to have planned to get off together, and several men boarded. Suddenly, I found myself surrounded and squeezed by several men. This situation caught me completely off guard. I couldn't move, let alone get off the bus. Furthermore , the feeling of being pressed so close to strange men made me instinctively panic. I quickly moved my chest to protect my only and most vulnerable area. As the car moved slowly, occasionally braking lightly or sharply, my body rubbed against these strange men, making me blush with shame. But there was nothing I could do but endure it, praying we would reach our destination quickly. The continued close contact made me drift off in this suffocating situation, gradually starting to enjoy the unavoidable friction. It had been so long since I'd been caressed by my husband; this long-lost feeling made me hot all over , and my vagina began to secrete fluid. A sudden stop and the driver's shouts snapped me back to reality. Recalling the feeling, I was overwhelmed with shame: 'I'm so lewd! How could I have such thoughts in this situation? And feel such disgusting emotions!' The car started moving again. 'I need to be more focused; I can't let these feelings continue.' "I thought to myself, but as the bus moved, the pleasure of friction against my body surged into my brain again, and I became even wetter down there. I felt so shameless; how could I feel this way in this situation? Just as I was feeling lost, the bus stopped, and many people got off, which relieved me. Although many people got off, making the bus more spacious, it was still crowded, but it was much better than before. At least there wasn't a situation where people were packed together, which made me feel much more at ease. After a while, I suddenly felt a light nudge on my buttocks from behind, and my mind went : 'Would someone be so bold?' Then I thought, maybe the bus was unstable, and the person accidentally bumped into me. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then I remembered that the moment my buttocks were nudged, it felt like my husband was penetrating but not quite hitting the right spot, just poking my buttocks; and the fabric of my clothes was very thin, so being nudged like that felt like it was really being nudged. Thinking about this, I became wet down there again." Just as I was reflecting on this, another sound came from behind, which made me understand even more deeply my husband's feelings at that moment.

The area below was even more muddy and slippery. While I was lost in thought, the thrusting began again from behind, and unlike the previous
two times when it was just a light touch, it was continuous.

The continuous thrusting reminded me of my husband's actions during sex, causing me
to lose focus . However, I quickly came to my senses: 'No, not my husband. How
dare he be so bold, violating me in front of so many people?' Immediately, ashamed and angry, I was about to turn around to stop this stranger's
behavior when I thought, "With so many people here, how shameful it would be if they knew I was being sexually harassed!"

Thinking this, I gave up the idea of resistance, but not resisting didn't mean I was willing to be violated. I
moved to the side, trying to avoid him, hoping that my actions would make him realize I intended to resist and restrain himself
. But he seemed certain I wouldn't resist, and as I
moved, he moved with me.

This made me extremely ashamed and angry, and I felt helpless. Just when I thought he would continue
, he didn't. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he wouldn't violate me again, I
suddenly felt a hand touch my buttocks.

The sudden situation almost made me cry out: 'Why is this person so persistent?'
At I was terrified, afraid that this man would do something else. The hand on my buttocks gently
caressed me, the heat from its touch quickly traveling through my nerve endings to my brain.

Anxious, I twisted my buttocks, trying to escape the man's violation, only wanting to get rid of him
, without realizing that my movements were actually welcoming his caresses. The more I twisted,
the stronger the man's hand became. Then I heard the man's heavy breathing behind me, which
made me even more uneasy.

Suddenly, the man's other hand, through the thin fabric, accurately pressed against my clitoris.
The sudden pleasure made me lose all ability to think. The man seemed to sense my current state;
the hand that had been caressing my buttocks moved to my hip bone, and then he began thrusting from behind.

I was jolted awake by the man's thrusting, realizing my predicament. Now, I dared not
resist . I couldn't let anyone see or know my shameful state. I imagined myself
with eyes half-closed, face flushed, trembling, wanting to resist yet afraid to, my face a mixture of humiliation and
pleasure .

I couldn't let anyone see me like this; anyone could see my coy, reluctant surrender
. Even if I resisted, those around me wouldn't sympathize; they would only condemn me as shameless, vulgar, and lewd
— words I dared not face or even think of.

But I was unwilling. I refused to succumb to pleasure, unwilling to be given repeated pleasures by
a stranger. Yet, the long-lost pleasure,
the pleasure of not having a man touch my genitals for months, the strange feeling of a stranger's thrusting, even without actual penetration, felt like penetration itself
. What I found most unbearable was the surreal thrill of being sexually assaulted by a stranger in a world of strangers
.

A mix of conflicting emotions surged through me, making my pleasure overwhelming and filling me
with shame . My husband's face, his gentle, doting words,
the wedding photo quietly placed on the bedside table in the bedroom—all these things amplified my guilt.

A torrent of thoughts churned in my mind like explosive TNT, pushing
my pleasure to its peak. In the throes of orgasm, all other thoughts vanished; I was solely focused on enjoying this long-lost
, exhilarating pleasure. Deep within my subconscious, the last vestiges of reason still held sway. I desperately tried
to suppress my cries, to resist the trembling from the orgasm. That last shred of reason told me
I couldn't let anyone see through my act in front of so many people.

After the orgasm, I vaguely felt the stranger rubbing my clitoris through my thin clothing.
The clitoris is extremely sensitive; after an orgasm, I dare not touch it again.
The clitoris, still congested, would hurt, so I never touch it after masturbating to orgasm.

The stranger was still rubbing my clitoris. The pain jolted me fully awake. Feelings of
self-blame , fear, tension, and helplessness overwhelmed me. Deep down, my greatest wish was for my husband
to appear and rescue his wife from this stranger's clutches. But I knew it was impossible. I couldn't
imagine his expression when he saw me like that—sadness? Disappointment? Angry? I dared not think of any of these.
I was afraid, unwilling, and terrified of him appearing before me. I only prayed that a kind stranger would
save me, even if he saw my shameful state. This city was so big; there was no possibility of further interaction.

Perhaps heaven saw my plight, or perhaps heaven had forgiven me. Suddenly,
someone quickly weaved between me and the man. Just then, a stop arrived, and
before I could react, the man pulled me away from the bus.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" I heard the man's voice after getting off the bus. The voice sounded
familiar , and I looked up. It was the man who had helped me at the supermarket. This time,
I was rescued by him in such a shameful situation. These two experiences made me realize that my secret
was no longer a secret to this man.

This feeling of having my secret known made me afraid to face him.
Being seen by him in such a shameful situation made me even more afraid to look at him; my face felt burning hot. Fortunately, when
I looked at him earlier, his eyes didn't have the mocking look I feared.

"Oh, it's you! What a coincidence! I got on at the last stop, but I suddenly noticed you being harassed,
so I rashly pulled you off the train. Those damn perverts are really lecherous. I'm sorry I didn't teach that man
a lesson ."

Hearing his words, I felt a little relieved. This man hadn't seen my shameful state. I also
felt his thoughtfulness; if he had fought with that man then, everyone would have seen
me, and I would have been utterly humiliated.

But then I suddenly realized that this man must have seen me like that. Nobody's stupid.
"He must have found out!" Thinking this, I dared not speak to the man anymore, only wanting to escape as quickly as possible. At the same time, I
remembered my daughter was still at kindergarten.

"Sir, I don't know how to thank you enough. You've helped me twice, thank you so much!"
I said, bowing deeply. "Well, sir, my daughter got out of school halfway through the day, I need to hurry and pick her up. It wouldn't be good for her
if I was late , I hope you can understand." I said quickly after bowing.

The man seemed taken aback for a moment, then said, "It's alright, ma'am, hurry and pick up your daughter!
Hehe, it's very sad for a child not to see her mother. How about I drive you? My car is at the repair
shop up ahead, it just finished repairing today, I'm just picking it up, I can give you a ride!"

"Thank you, no need, my daughter's school isn't far, I'll be there in a bit, no need to trouble you. Well,
sir, I'll be going now, thank you very much for helping me today." I quickly left without waiting for the
man to say anything more…

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After my husband cheated on me, I became promiscuous.

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